


Dragon's Choice

by vix_spes



Category: Persuasion - Jane Austen, Temeraire - Naomi Novik
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Book/Movie Fusion, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Getting Back Together, M/M, Pre-Slash, Romance, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-20
Updated: 2016-10-01
Packaged: 2018-06-03 12:22:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6610555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vix_spes/pseuds/vix_spes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finally, everything was going right for Frederick Wentworth. He had been made Captain, had significant prize money in the funds and Miss Anne Elliot had accepted his (second) proposal. The last thing he needed was a dragon to ruin it all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't read all of the Temeraire books - and intend to - this fic has spoilers up to Book 5 (Victory of Eagles)
> 
> This also has gorgeous art by the amazing imera which can be found [here](http://imera.livejournal.com/35926.html)

Frederick Wentworth couldn’t help the feeling of trepidation that swept through him as he turned down the drive that led to Kellynch Hall, the home of one Sir Walter Elliot and his daughters. It had been some eighteen months since he was last here and he had left under something of a dark cloud. At the time, he had planned to leave the county as an engaged man with the prospect of a marriage to Miss Anne Elliot to keep him going through the long sea voyages that he undertook. He certainly hadn’t expected to leave heartbroken and nursing a distinctly bruised ego. Even now, he could barely stand thinking about the events that had led to his departure, adamant at the time that he would never return to Somerset and never voluntarily set eyes upon the Elliots again.

Oh how things changed. Despite once swearing that he never wanted to set eyes on Anne Elliot again, Frederick had returned to try his suit once more.

The reason that he had returned? One Arthur Wellesley. Now back in the army after a brief foray into politics as a privy counsellor, Major-General Arthur Wellesley KB was somebody that Frederick was truly grateful – and somewhat amazed – that he could count as a friend. Nearly three years previously, Frederick had been serving a brief posting on HMS Howe when he had met the future Duke of Wellington. It had all come about as a favour to his brother-in-law. Frederick had been at a loose end between ships and so his brother-in-law, one Admiral Croft, had spoken to Admiral Sir Edward Pellew – a friend of his – and got Frederick a temporary posting on a frigate owned by Sir Edward that was bringing the Wellesley brothers home from the Second Anglo-Maratha War.

The voyage had been something of an eye-opener for Frederick. Whilst the eldest Wellesley brother – the former Governor-General of India – had very much kept to himself, only spending time with the Captain, the Major-General had been the complete opposite. Indeed, he had spent a significant amount of time talking to the more junior officers both in their mess-room and also when they were on duty.

Once the Howe had docked in Portsmouth, Frederick had assumed that he would never see the man again and had simply carried on with his life. But then, some eighteen months later, as he was leaving the Admiralty offices following his disastrous sojourn into Somerset, he had run into Wellesley once more. To Frederick’s amazement, the man had remembered him and had invited Frederick to dinner at his club, an offer that Frederick had graciously accepted.

Later that evening, after dinner and several glasses of very good Madeira, Frederick had found himself spilling the entire sorry history of himself and one Miss Anne Elliot to Major-General Arthur Wellesley.

Much to his surprise, he had found a sympathetic ear. He hadn’t quite believed his ears but apparently even men of Wellesley’s situation found themselves in the same type of dilemma as Frederick. Apparently Wellesley had fallen for The Honourable Miss Catherine Pakenham but her parents had disapproved of the match due to his lack of prospects at the time, regardless of what promise he might have shown. Still, Wellesley hadn’t given up the hope that he would get to marry her eventually even though, until very recently, she had been engaged to the second son of the Earl of Enniskillen. Having left India with both title and money behind him, he had returned to marry her. Having done so and shared his story, Wellesley gave hope to one young Naval Officer.

And so, Frederick had refused to give up.

The truth of the matter was that, and it had taken a lot for him to admit this, while his heart may have been bruised and his pride torn down around his ears, Anne Elliot still held Frederick’s heart. He could not envisage himself marrying anyone else, let alone loving them. Wellesley had given him hope, hope that Anne may have rejected him for reasons that had nothing to do with whether or not she loved him. Having accepted his captaincy to the Asp, Frederick was determined to do the best job that he could both for future promotions and also to gain the prize money that would support a future proposal. Now, having successfully captained the Asp round the West Indies and being both newly returned from the Western Isles and awaiting his next posting with a decent amount of prize money invested in the Funds, Frederick was hoping that he would prove a much more suitable match than before to Anne’s family.

(~*~)

If he were being truly honest, Frederick was somewhat amazed that he was granted entrance into Kellynch. He had assumed that he would perhaps be persona non grata after what had happened on his last visit. However, all became clear when he was shown into the drawing room where the family sat. The room only contained three people; Sir Walter, Miss Elizabeth Elliot and Anne - there was no sign of the formidable Lady Russell anywhere - and both Sir Walter and Miss Elliot showed no signs of recognising him.

Bowing slightly, he fought to keep his attention on Sir Walter as he made his introduction. "Sir Walter, my name is Captain Frederick Wentworth. I was acquainted with your daughter, Miss Anne, several years ago before I was called away to sea. I was hoping to renew our acquaintance." There was no harm in being vague in the details was there?

At the sound of a small gasp, he could resist no longer and allowed himself to look in Anne's direction. In doing so, he felt his heart sink. What had happened to his little one in the last two years? Anne looked so completely different to when he had stormed out of Somerset, determined not to return. Anne had always been delicate, so much smaller than him but now she appeared positively fragile, as though a mere wind could destroy her. In essence, she was still the same Anne Elliot. Still neatly dressed in a most becoming fashion but she seemed faded, as though all of the life had faded from her.

"Wentworth, you say? The name sounds familiar but I don't ever remember it being connected to a Naval man."

Tearing his attention away from his concerned perusal of Anne with some difficulty, Frederick responded. "You may be remembering my older brother, Sir Walter. He was the curate at Monkford for a time."

"Ah yes, that may have been it. Well, come in, come in I suppose. I can't see there being much harm in what you're asking. Call for some tea, would you Anne?"

Frederick fought to keep his reaction controlled but inside he was jumping for joy. So far so good, although he couldn't help but be concerned about how faded Anne seemed. That concern didn't disappear as the afternoon progressed. The conversation was dominated by Anne's father and sister with both Frederick and Anne barely getting a word in edgeways but whilst Frederick's opinions were at least acknowledged, almost everything that Anne said was simply brushed off as insignificant. It certainly gave Frederick one possible reason for Anne's lack of spark.

When he finally left, it was reluctantly but he had been more successful than he had dared to hope. He hadn’t been turned away at the door and he had been given permission to renew his acquaintance with Anne. He still had the chance to win her back.

~*~

The day after his re-admittance into Kellynch society, Frederick Wentworth was awake to see the dawn break over the horizon. He’d spent the whole night pacing up and down, his thoughts utterly consumed with Anne. He was still unable to believe the change in her, how she could be so different to the woman he had fallen in love with nearly two years ago. He had spent the night wishing for someone to talk to, someone with experience who could advise him on what was the best thing to do. There was nobody though. Edward had changed parishes and was now in Shropshire although he probably wouldn’t have been of much use anyway. Both Admiral Croft and Major-General Wellesley – his ideal choices – were consumed with the war effort and not an option. With his stomach in knots and unable to eat breakfast, Frederick made a decision that he hoped wasn’t too rash.

Despite her older sister Elizabeth officially holding the title since their mother’s death, Anne had always been the true mistress of Kellynch, even at the tender age of nineteen. It was she who dealt with the day to day running of the estate and whatever small matters and troubles that arose which needed seeing to. When he had been in Somerset last, Anne had always visited some of the poorer parishioners once a week to deliver food baskets as well as just sit and spend a while talking with them. Today was the day that she had always carried out that task and he was hoping that she hadn’t changed in her routine. He felt bad for practically planning an ambush on Anne but he couldn’t think of anything else to do and he really didn’t want their first true conversation to happen while surrounded by her family.

He earned more than a few strange looks from passers-by as he hovered at the roadside but, to his relief, nobody queried his presence. By the time mid-morning approached, he was starting to lose hope. Maybe Anne had changed her routine – it was entirely possible, after all. Or, maybe one of the people that had passed him had alerted Anne to his presence and she was trying to avoid him? He hoped that it wasn’t the latter. Finally, just as he was about ready to give up hope, Anne appeared in view. She was bundled up against the winter’s chill, her pelisse a bright flash of colour against the remains of the early snowfall. He knew the instant that she saw him as her step faltered slightly but she made no attempts to avoid him. He moved towards her as she drew closer, bowing as he did so.

“Anne.”

“Captain Wentworth.”

His title on her lips was one of the best things that he had heard in several years. He had thought that he liked the sound of it when he had been addressed as such for the first time but that was nothing compared to how it sounded from Anne’s lips. The cherry red pelisse and the exercise lent some colour to her face but she was still too pale for his liking. Even so, he seized the opportunity offered him and drank in her features like a man dying of thirst.

Aware that he was simply staring, he cleared his throat awkwardly. “My apologies, Miss Elliot. May I be permitted to escort you home?”

Despite her obvious befuddlement, Anne accepted his arm and the two of them walked in the direction of Kellynch in a mostly pleasant but also slightly awkward silence. However, the closer that they got to Kellynch, the harder Frederick found it to hold his silence. Sophy had always chided him for being impetuous as a child and he had never quite been able to change. He knew that he was taking a risk by speaking out so early but he had very little choice. With all of the talk about Napoleon trying to invade Britain, time wasn’t on Frederick’s side; he had a deadline to work to.

He seized his opportunity as they drew closer to Kellynch. Checking that there was no-one around watching them, he drew Anne into a small coppice where he had once stolen kisses from her. Once they were sheltered by the trees, Frederick dropped Anne’s hand and whirled around, raking a hand through his hair.

“Fre … Captain Wentworth? What? Is … is everything well?”

“Miss Elliot … Anne. I realise that this is most unorthodox but I must speak to you. You … you pierce my soul Anne.” Frederick swallowed heavily before huffing out a laugh. “Look at me. I can barely speak. I am half agony, half hope. Please. Tell me that I am not too late, that such precious feelings are gone forever. Anne, I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it eighteen months ago. I have loved none but you. For you alone, I think and plan. Please, tell me if I have a chance. Could you still love me?”

Frederick finally chanced a glance at Anne only to see her standing with her mouth open and tears streaming down her face. He immediately started jumping to conclusions.

“Anne?! Anne, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have spoken. I didn’t mean to offend you. You … have I spoken out of turn? Are your affections engaged … elsewhere?”

“What? Frederick, no!”

Frederick held his breath as Anne stepped closer, noticing that she was practically trembling.

“There is no-one else Frederick. There never could be. I … I still love you.”

The soft admission made Frederick’s heart leap into his throat. She loved him. _She loved him._ This was more than Frederick had dared to hope for. Elation coursing through his veins, Frederick stepped closer. “Anne. You have no idea how happy your words have made me. I know that I do not deserve this after the way I stormed out of Somerset but I have to ask. Eighteen months ago, you made me the happiest man alive by agreeing to be my wife. I … I would that you would do so again.”

“Yes.” Anne laughed delightedly, even as tears spilled over and down her cheeks. “Yes, Frederick Wentworth, I will marry you.”

“You will? You’ll marry me?” Frederick could hardly believe it. With a whoop of joy, he swept Anne off her feet and swung her around, laughing as he did so. Setting Anne back on her feet, Frederick tenderly brushed away the tear tracks. “You’re certain? I don’t think I could bear losing you again.”

“I’ve never been more sure. Frederick,” Anne bit her lip before she spoke. “I never wanted to give you up. They … they convinced me that it was for the best but I’ve regretted my decision every day ever since. I never stopped loving you.”

“I know little one, don’t fret. What’s past is past. We look to the future now.”

Stepping closer to Anne, Frederick swept his fingers across her cheek before he dipped his head and brushed his lips against hers. Slipping his arms around Anne’s petite form, he pulled his fiancée close and kissed her on and on, content in the knowledge that all was as it should be once more.

~*~

When the time came for Frederick to return to Plymouth, the very last thing that he wanted was to leave Anne behind. These last few weeks in Somerset had been blissfully happy, perhaps even more so than the time that he and Anne had spent together two years previously. They had spent hours walking through the grounds of Kellynch despite the chilly weather, talking and simply spending time together, reaffirming their love and promises to each other. As much as Frederick loved the Navy, for once he did not want to return to ship. He wanted to remain in Somerset with his fiancée, plan their wedding and start their life together.

He couldn’t help but worry about Anne and whether she would hold fast to her decision this time. Her family may have agreed to their engagement – a long one -  but Frederick was almost hyper aware that they had done so reluctantly. They, especially Lady Russell, still did not feel that he was good enough for their beloved Anne and, whilst he now trusted in Anne’s feelings for him, he couldn’t help but be afraid that they would try to sway her from her decision whilst he was at sea. Still, he had no choice; he had to be on board the Laconia when she set sail in less than a week’s time.

“I have to go. I am expected on board ship in three days’ time; we are bound for the Mediterranean and the Western Islands. You will write?” Frederick didn’t know whether the letters would be able to get through to him but they would be something to look forward to at the very least.

“Of course I’ll write Frederick! Every week.”

Frederick smiled at her insistence, pressing a kiss to her hand. “I never doubted you little one, but it does me good to hear you say it.”

The smile fell from Frederick’s face as he hesitated, not wanting to voice his next thoughts but knowing that he needed to do it. If only for his own piece of mind. “You are sure about this, Anne? About us having a long engagement? I do not doubt that you love me or that you want to marry me but I do not know how long it will be before we will be able to marry. I am afraid that I am at the mercy of His Majesty and Boney himself.”

Anne nodded her head quickly, fervency colouring her voice as she pressed Frederick’s hand tightly. “I know and understand all of that and I don’t care. I love you. I promise; I will wait for you. I will marry you Frederick Wentworth and nothing, or no-one, is going to change my mind.”


	2. Chapter One

The second that he handed his duties over to Benwick for a time, Frederick hurried to his cabin eager for a few hours of solitude. He sorely missed Harville who was now back in England and settled in Lyme having been invalided out of the Navy after the Battle of San Domingo. But, he was grateful that, despite him holding the title of commander, he still had Benwick at his side. With the wind having died down to nothing, Frederick had every intention of catching up with some of his correspondence. With thing starting to calm somewhat, one of the post boats had caught up with them and Frederick was now in possession of a rather large stack of letters. More than a few of them were official communiques from the Naval offices in Whitehall but Frederick had also noticed several letters addressed in the hand of both Anne and his sister Sophy.

Sometimes it felt as though Frederick had barely paused for breath since he left Anne in Somerset. As soon as he had left Kellynch, he had reported for duty in Whitehall and had officially been given the Laconia to command, the French frigate that he had brought into Plymouth prior to his reunion with Anne. From Whitehall, he had been straight to Spithead and out to sea the instant that the Laconia was ready. Officially, he was sailing under his brother-in-law’s command. Admiral Richard Croft had commanded one of the ships of the line that had fought alongside Admiral Nelson at the Battle of the Nile, a battle in which he had lost his left hand to a lucky French sword. From there, Croft had been put in charge of the Mediterranean fleet, berthing his flagship in the port of Funchal, Madeira. Frederick hadn’t really seen his brother-in-law but they had still kept in regular contact.

Wanting to finish with the less pleasurable things first, he dealt with the letters from Richard first. They told him nothing that he didn’t already know and informed him that the Laconia was to continue her current work patrolling the Mediterranean and destroying any of the French fleet that they came upon. With the necessary responses written, Frederick turned his attentions to the letters from his sister and his fiancée. Sophy’s letters were as he expected them to be; chatty and full of news from Funchal while simultaneously lamenting the fact that she could not be by her husband’s side on-board ship. There was a fair amount of mother-henning as well. Frederick could rise to be an admiral himself and Sophy would still chide and mother-hen him as only an older sister could.

Anne’s letters were much different in tone. In contrast to Sophy, Anne didn’t have a wide social circle and was still stuck at Kellynch with her father and sisters. Still, she was doing her best to keep herself occupied and not fall into despondency. Anne described that, in addition to her usual tasks around the estate, she had enlisted the help of one of the village women to teach her what she would need to know as a navy wife and that she was keeping abreast of the action through the naval lists. She did not say so explicitly – no doubt not wanting to worry Frederick – but it did not take much to read between the lines and see that Lady Russell was doing her best to exert her influence over her god-daughter and get her to break off the engagement. Still, Anne was sticking fast to her decision and Frederick was inexplicably proud of her for that. More importantly for Frederick’s peace of mind, Kellynch and its occupants hadn’t been affected by Napoleon’s brief invasion of Britain.

Still, when it came to responding, Frederick found himself at something of a loss. How did he put into words what had happened in the last few weeks?

Once they had left Spithead, the Laconia had immediately joined the patrols in the Mediterranean before joining the Channel blockade alongside the HMS Goliath and a host of others. Despite the best efforts of the Navy, their best simply hadn’t been good enough and, shortly after the sinking of the Goliath in late December, Napoleon and his forces had invaded Britain, the Laconia being one of the few lucky ships to survive the demolition of the blockade. What had followed was near enough two months of sailing constantly looking over their shoulders as they did their best to pick off any French ships, trying to ensure that no further French troops could join those already on English shores.

And then had come the Battle of Shoeburyness.

The Laconia had joined up with Nelson’s HMS Victory, fourteen other ships of the line and the HMS Indomitable, another frigate like the Laconia, all of whom had been hiding in coves along the British coastline having returned covertly from victory at the Battle of Copenhagen. In charge of the attack had been none other than Frederick’s acquaintance Major-General Arthur Wellesley, although Frederick never clapped eyes on him. It hadn’t gone well at first. An unfavourable fog had kept the waiting ships back three hours longer than had been planned but, as soon as the fog had lifted, the ships had been able to do as intended.

Fifteen ships of the line plus two frigates had pounded the French troops with every gun they had, utterly decimating the French dragons. Even so, the plan hadn’t been entirely successful as Wellesley had been unable to fulfil his goal of capturing Napoleon himself.

The entire crew of the Laconia, including Frederick himself, had stared in amazement as the great bulk of the Emperor’s dragon had gone soaring over them. They had all seen dragons before, of course they had, and most of them had fought dragons as well but none of them had seen anything like the giant white dragon that had sailed over the British ships to allow Napoleon to escape. There had been little time to gawk however as the dragon’s resulting act had sent all hands scrambling to the deck as the flag message came down the line from the Victory.

Frederick had heard of this particular dragon’s ability but had never seen them in action. Now, he could only watch in horror as the white dragon had filled its lungs and unleashed a wind that had created a series of smaller waves before one enormous wave had obliterated almost the entire British fleet. Only the Superb and the Laconia had managed to survive by something that Frederick could only ascribe to luck. They had limped back to Dover for a brief stop to undertake the necessary repairs before continuing with their Channel patrols.

The thundering sound of footsteps coming down from deck roused Frederick from his thoughts. He looked down ruefully at his supposed letters which amounted to nothing more than a splodge of ink on a clean sheet of paper. Before he could do anything, his door flew open and Welland, one of the midshipmen burst in.

“Captain Wentworth! A French frigate on the horizon and bearing fast. Captain Benwick requests your presence on deck Sir.”

Frederick reached for his hat, pistol, sword and telescope. “Thank you Mr Welland. I am on my way.”

(~*~)

Arriving on deck, Frederick saw that the French ship was actually much closer than Mr Welland had implied. About the same size as the Laconia, the French frigate was moving at a fair clip, as though it had somewhere to be urgently. Judging from its position, it was likely coming from Spain and so Frederick didn’t hesitate before giving the order to beat to quarters in preparation. The call was taken up by his officers and the whole ship was suddenly alive with movement. The closer that they got, Frederick could see that although the French ship was officially smaller than the Laconia – probably a 28-gun sixth rate or something smaller – she had been rammed full of extra guns and more marines than a ship of her size would normally carry; so many that she was actually sitting fairly low in the water. Clearly, she was carrying important cargo.

Looking through his telescope once more – although he didn’t really need it as the ships drew ever closer – Frederick could see that the French ship had also sprung to life and was preparing for a fight. From behind him came the reassuring shouts of the men as they moved to their positions and the low rumble from below decks let him know that the gun crews were at their positions, running the guns out in preparation for battle. Frederick had complete faith in his men, knew that they would give him everything that they could, but he couldn’t help but be more than a little nervous about taking on the French ship.

And then the French fired the first volley, missing the Laconia’s stern by less than fifty yards.

Frederick gave the order to return fire and from then on, there wasn’t time to think. Everything was pure instinct. As the two ships drew within range, Frederick and the crew of the Laconia were thrown into action. The sound of cannons blasting had once been overwhelming to a young Frederick when he had been a Mid but now they were second nature. The shouts of the men calling out orders, the cries of the wounded, the sound of shot leaving the cannons and that of wood splintering on impact. This was what he knew. What he was good at. And then the ships were drawing parallel and Frederick knew that the French weren’t going to give up without a fight. This battle was going to have to be taken to close quarters.

“Marines, at the ready! Boarding parties ready! Officers, draw your swords.”

Frederick drew his own sword, hefting his pistol in his other hand, and, as the swell of the sea moved the decks, leapt over to the French ship at the front of the boarding parties. From there, it was a haze. The clash of swords, pistols firing, grunts and shouts until, finally, Frederick was standing victorious with his men, panting for breath on a deck slick with blood and spray.

The French captain was far from eager to hand over his sword – and his ship – to Frederick but he had no choice and he surrendered both with obvious reluctance. Despite the fact that they had more guns and more men, the French had been subdued by the crew of the Laconia and, looking around, Frederick could see why. None of the French sailors looked in particularly good health – somewhat gaunt and hollow cheeked – and Frederick couldn’t help but wonder why their Captain had decided to engage the Laconia with his crew in such a state.

“Captain Wentworth? Lieutenant Miles has requested your presence below decks, sir.”

“What does he want, Mr Welland?” The lad’s silence at the question drew Frederick’s attention. “Well?”

“I think you’d best see for yourself, Captain.”

Trying his best not to be exasperated, Frederick swung down into the hold of the French ship, past numerous mutinous-looking French sailors being held back by his own men to see an extra cabin that shouldn’t exist. Stepping inside, he saw a large crate in the centre of the room, copious amounts of sailcloth on the floor and two wood-burning stoves that were a fire-hazard if ever he saw one.

“Miles? Any thoughts?”

“A couple, sir. Not all of them good. Shall I get some of the lads to open it up?”

“I think we’d best.”

The call went up at a nod from Benwick and pretty soon several seamen were all working away at the nails holding down the lid of the crate. With the number of willing hands, it didn’t take long before the lid was off, the top layer of packing with it and a murmur spread through the gathered men at the sight that had been revealed. Frederick stepped closer, not quite believing what he was seeing. It was a dragon egg, no doubt about it. He might not have seen one before but it was unmistakeable. Unable to help himself, he reached out a hand and trailed tentative fingers over the top of the shell before he roused himself.

“Somebody call for Matthews. Get him down here immediately.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Frederick saw one of the hands disappear and minutes later, a rather grizzled sailor was at Frederick’s side. Descended from Welsh mining stock, Matthews had defied his family and run away to sea as a teenager but, if Frederick remembered quickly, he had grown up near Pen y Fan breeding grounds. That made Matthews the closest thing to an expert on dragons that Frederick was going to get.

“You wanted me Sir?”

“Matthews, yes. I need you to take a look at this and tell me everything you can.”

Frederick watched as Matthews looked towards the egg and then back to Frederick, hesitating slightly before he spoke. “You do know that I’m not an expert, don’t you Sir?”

“I know Matthews but you’re the best we’ve got and anything you can tell us would be of great help.”

“Of course, Sir.”

Frederick watched as Matthews moved forward, walking around the crate scrutinising the egg from every possible angle. There wasn’t a single word, a single movement amongst the gathered sailors as Matthews made his inspection, even reaching out to touch the egg at one point. Finally, after what seemed like forever – but Frederick knew couldn’t have been longer than ten minutes at the most – Matthews stepped back to Frederick’s side. Sensing that Matthews didn’t want to talk in front of the other men, Frederick jerked his head to the side and led Matthews out of the room and deep into the gun deck where they couldn’t be heard by anyone.

“Well?”

“I’ve never seen anything like it Sir. It’s not an English dragon, that’s for sure. I never saw anything like that egg up at Pen y Fan and they had all of the English breeds up there at some point or other.” Matthews paused before he spoke again. “Beg pardon sir, but there have been rumours that the Frenchies are experimenting with dragons. That big Chinese one is said to be breeding one especially for Boney himself.”

“And what? You think that this could be that dragon? The one intended for Napoleon?”

“I couldn’t say Sir. But I’ve seen ships carrying dragon eggs plenty of times before and I’ve never seen one this heavily guarded or moving this quickly.”

“Hmmm. And how long do you think we’ve got until it hatches?”

Frederick’s heart sank as he saw Matthews grimace. “That’s the bad news Captain. I’d say we’ve got a week at best, probably less.”

“Alright, thank you Matthews.”;

Despite the hinted at dismissal in Frederick’s voice, Matthews still hesitated until Frederick arched an eyebrow at him.

“Well Sir, if that dragon hatches while we’re at sea we’re going to need some way to keep it with us. It wouldn’t be a proper one like, but I could fashion a makeshift harness; I’ve seen it done before.”

“That would be a great help. Thank you Matthews, go back up top and gather a crew to move the egg over to the Laconia.”

Matthews left with a knuckle to his forehead while Frederick stayed behind in the gun deck, processing everything that he had just been told. He knew that he could wait until morning but the extra few hours weren’t going to help him make another decision, a better decision. He wasn’t going to have another solution in the morning that he hadn’t thought of already. The only option open to him was hardly ideal but what else could he do. Taking a deep breath, he walked back into the small cabin that held the egg and cleared his throat, drawing the attention of all the men in the room.

“All officers please report to my cabin at sixth bell. Mr Welland, please inform Mr Sutton that the deck is his. Lieutenant Miles, please oversee Matthews and his crew as they move the egg over to the Laconia.”

Frederick turned and headed for both the Laconia and his cabin, knowing without looking that Benwick was hot on his heels. He was unsurprised when Benwick burst out speaking the instant that the door closed behind them.

“A dragon! And Napoleon’s dragon at that! The Lords at Whitehall are going to love you for this Frederick.”

“We shall see.”

“We shall see? Whatever are you talking about?”

“Matthews doesn’t think we have long to go until that egg hatches and, depending on the wind, we could still be at sea. We need to be prepared for that; we can’t let this dragon fall back into French hands. I propose that all of the officers draw lots for who shall attempt to harness it if it hatches at sea.”

“You can’t be serious Frederick? All of the officers putting their names into a hat for the dragon? Yourself included?”

“Of course I’m serious, I can’t see any fairer way of dealing with the situation. If that dragon is what we think it is – if it is indeed this fabled dragon intended for Napoleon - then it needs to be harnessed by British hands. We can’t let it roam loose or worse, let it fall back into French hands. And of course my name will go in with the rest. What kind of Captain would I be if I didn’t lead by example?”

“Oh god, Harry’s going to kill me.”

“Why would Harry kill you? I would have thought it would be me he’d kill if you get picked. What about Fanny?”

“When they invalided him out, he made me promise to keep an eye on you and to not let you do anything stupid. This is stupid. And you’re asking me about Fanny; what about Anne? Frederick, you’ve only been engaged again a few months and you’re going to risk it all?”

“What choice do I have James? A Captain’s duty is to lead by example and so my name will go into the hat with the rest of them. This whole situation is far from ideal but we must make the best of it. Now, come, give me a hand to move my desk so that we all have room to breathe.”

(~*~)

Less than an hour later and Frederick couldn’t have been more proud of his officers. With the exception of Clayton – who Frederick didn’t regard too highly anyway – they had all taken the news stoically and offered up their names without complaint. Nevertheless, there had been sighs of relief all round when the name to be pulled out of the hat was that of Kent, the youngest midshipman aboard the Laconia.

As the officers filed out of Frederick’s cabin, Benwick moved to the tray of alcohol that was kept on the sideboard and poured them both a sizeable drink, passing one to Frederick as he slumped into one of the empty seats.

“Frederick, why are you not drinking? We’re in the clear; it’s poor Kent who’s going to end up in the Corps, not us. You should be celebrating!”

Frederick gave a half-hearted smile and took a mouthful of his drink. “I don’t know. Something tells me that things aren’t going to be that simple.”

~*~

The day that the egg started to hatch was greeted with a mix of excitement and trepidation. For the common sailors, it was excitement. Whilst most of them had seen dragons before in action, it had always been at a distance. The Laconia wasn’t large enough to hold a dragon deck so this was the first opportunity to see a dragon at close quarters. There was also more than a little intrigue as to why the egg had been under such heavy guard and why the French sailors had put up such a struggle to stop it from falling into British hands.

For the officers, there was no excitement except maybe amongst the more junior officers. Becoming the captain of a dragon was something new, something exciting for them. For the rest of them, being chosen by the dragon was nothing more than the destruction of everything that they had spent a lifetime working for. Not one of them wanted to be chosen, Frederick least of all. From his position on the Quarterdeck he felt his fingers clench so hard around the rail that he was amazed it didn’t splinter, more grateful than he could say that Benwick didn’t comment, although he obviously noticed.

The instant that they had seen the first cracks appear on the egg, Frederick had ordered that it be brought up out of the cabin they had been keeping it in and onto the deck. The entire crew had gathered for the event, all of them eager to see the dragon with the exception of Kent, who was so nervous that he looked about ready to cry.

Silence fell over the ship as the first piece of shell cracked properly and fell to the deck. Almost immediately, they could see movement from the dragonet inside and the men started to fidget and murmur a little. The dragonet seemed equally impatient. Almost as soon as a second fragment of shell had hit the deck, the entire egg had cracked into two pieces leaving a somewhat slimy dragonet sat on the deck of the Laconia.

Frederick couldn’t help but stare curiously. Maybe Matthews was right. Frederick had certainly never seen any dragon that looked like this before. The dragon was all black with deep blue markings dappled along its wing span and large curved horns protruding from its forehead. It was a beautiful beast and clearly curious as it looked around, ruffling its wings almost experimentally.

Seeing that Kent was still hovering nervously and knowing that time was of the essence, Frederick motioned him forwards. They couldn’t afford to let the dragon fly away, not if their suspicions were correct.

“Mr Kent, if you would…”

“N-n-nice dragon. Good dragon.” Kent stepped forward hesitantly, holding out the hand that wasn’t holding the harness, almost as you would with a dog.

The dragon didn’t seem to be awfully impressed and instead focused on ridding itself of the slime covering its wings. Kent seemed about ready to give up but a sharp look from Frederick had him making another attempt that seemed just as likely to fail. Continuing to ignore Kent, the dragon stepped away from its shell and, showing more interest in its surroundings, moved around the deck before, with an awkward hop and slight flap of its wings, springing up onto the rail in front of Frederick, the wood creaking beneath the unexpected weight.

“Who are you?”

“I - I am Captain Frederick Wentworth of HMS Laconia. What is your name if I may ask?”

The dragon looked confused. “My name? I do not have a name. Will you give me one?”

Frederick struggled to conceal his dismay at the fact that the dragon had apparently chosen him, out of all of the officers on board ship. Why did it have to be him? Everything had been going so well. He had his captaincy, a ship, prize money and a fiancée; everything that he could want. What would happen to it all now? His hard-won command – gone in an instant – he could no longer remain in the Navy now that he had been chosen by a dragon. His prize money would at least remain untouched but what of Anne? Her family had barely agreed to the match when he was a Captain in the Royal Navy with prospects. What would they think now that he was going to have to transfer to the Aerial Corps?

Frederick startled as the dragon moved in front of him, cocking its head curiously, and wracked his brains furiously before seizing upon the first name that came into his head. “Demeter! How about Demeter?”

“Demeter?” The dragon tested the name upon its tongue before bobbing its head, “Demeter, I like it.”

Seeing that the dragon was starting to stretch its wings somewhat, Frederick gestured frantically for the harness and once it was in hand, approached the dragon.

“Would you allow me to put this on you? We need to take precautions as we are at sea.”

“Are we? Well, yes, I suppose you can put it on.”

Frederick’s fingers fumbled over the unfamiliar buckles and straps of the harness, grateful once it was done and the dragon was secured to the deck. Only then did he become aware of the awkward, hushed silence that had fallen over the ship before a sharp command from Benwick had the officers springing into action and chivvying the hands back to their work.

Frederick knew that he had no choice open to him. The dragon had chosen him. He could not in all consciousness remain captain. Well, he probably could until they made land – the men would hardly comment on it – but if he did that then who knew whose hands the Laconia would be delivered into. If Frederick gave over his captaincy now, he could at least give the Laconia into the trusted – and well deserving – hands of James Benwick. Giving himself a mental shake, he steeled himself for what had to be done. There would be plenty of time for thinking later.

“Benwick, I concede captaincy of the Laconia into your hands.”

“Frederick, no. I couldn’t. I won’t.”

Frederick smiled sympathetically. “You have no choice James. I cannot remain as Captain now that I have been chosen by the dragon. If I may suggest that we head for Funchal, maybe Admiral Croft will have some thoughts as to how we proceed?”

“Yes, of course. I’ll set course at once. I’ll also have some food sent up for you and the dragon.”

For several long moments, it seemed as though Benwick was waiting to say something but instead he simply shook his head and clapped Frederick on the shoulder before departing, leaving Frederick alone with his thoughts.

Leaving him alone with the dragon.

_His_ dragon.

Demeter.


	3. Chapter Two

Despite the weather being mostly in their favour, it still took them the better part of a week to get to Funchal. In truth, Frederick didn’t object too much as it meant that he was afforded more time to try and wrap his head around the situation that he found himself in. His entire world had been turned upside down in the last week and he was in some sort of strange limbo with the rest of the crew.

Whereas before he had always been on good terms with all of his men, particularly his officers, but now it felt as though a gulf stretched between them as they seemed to be treading on eggshells around him. The only people who seemed to be treating him the same as they always had done were Benwick and Matthews, although there was a slight tension with Benwick that had never been there before. With no other option left to him, Frederick had thrown himself headlong into caring for the dragon, for Demeter.

He had had little other option. They had made several attempts to persuade the dragon to take another one of the officers as a captain but she would not be swayed; she had chosen Frederick to be her captain and, as her captain, he would remain. With no-one on-board other than Matthews knowing anything about dragons, Frederick was unable to do anything but put up with the situation until they reached Funchal at the very least. Once there, he just hoped that his brother-in-law would be able to help him, that they would be able to resolve the situation. A week ago, he might have been at war but he had had everything that he wanted, that he had dreamed of. Now, it seemed as though everything hovered tantalisingly out of reach.

He could hardly blame Demeter though; the situation was hardly her fault. He actually found himself growing increasingly fond of her as the days passed. It had taken barely two days for them to realise that, not only was she growing rapidly day to day but also that, even with favourable winds and good weather, she was rapidly demolishing their food supplies.

One of the mids had hesitantly spoken up with the suggestion that they could try fishing in an attempt to supplement what little food that they did have. Benwick had approved of the idea and had ordered a few of the hands to set up lines to try and catch whatever they could. It had worked beautifully for a few days and Demeter had been fairly delighted with her new diet but then they had caught a favourable wind which had sent them into a fast moving current and, no matter how hard the hands tried, the Laconia was moving too swiftly for the lines to catch anything.

It was at this point that Demeter started to become increasingly restless, desperate to fly. They had had the armourer fasten a set of manacles around her back legs after she had hatched so that they could chain her to the deck and ensure that she couldn't fly away. However, they hadn't taken into account how quickly she would grow. The manacles might have held for the first few days however, if Demeter were to put even the slightest bit of strength and effort in, she would easily be able to break her shackles with the amount that she had grown. She was a dragon, she needed to fly.

It was at this point that Frederick knew what he had to do, however much he hated to do so. He had been so convinced that, even though the dragon had chosen him, once they got to Funchal he would be able to hand Demeter over to someone else. That he would be able to carry on with his life with these days as nothing more than a fantastical story he could tell Anne and their children. Now, he knew that that was impossible. It was clear that Demeter was becoming increasingly attached to him and, if he was truthful, he was rather fond of her as well. Still, with Demeter growing as she was and as restless as she had been, Frederick knew that he had to take that final step and take her flying before she damaged the Laconia trying to go by herself.

Decision made, he went to find Matthews who had apparently pre-empted Frederick's decision and was prepared accordingly. Matthews had worked with the armourer to fashion a cruder version of the harnesses that Frederick had seen on the dragons of the Aerial Corps. Demeter herself had watched with poorly disguised fascination as Matthews had buckled the leather contraption around her, ensuring that the buckles would not rub painfully against her scales and wiggling obligingly to prove that it would not come loose. Even so, Frederick had clambered on her back with more than a little trepidation as Matthews removed the manacles from Demeter’s legs.

Frederick wasn’t entirely sure what he had been expecting from his first ride upon a dragon but it exceeded every single thing that he could have imagined. He could feel the muscles in her legs bunch and strain beneath him as she gathered momentum to take flight and then the Laconia was dropping away beneath them and then they were in the air. Frederick felt just as exhilarated as he had when he took to the top sails for the first time as a green mid. He could feel the wind through his hair and the sea spray on his face as they skimmed the surface of the ocean. The speed made him gasp, bringing tears to his eyes as laughter bubbled out of him uncontrollably.

It wasn’t sailing, it wouldn't be the life he knew, but Frederick couldn't help but think that, if he could figure out something that would ensure he didn't lose Anne in the process, he could perhaps reconcile himself to captaining a dragon.

~*~

They had barely made anchor in Funchal before the flags went up on the Commendable summoning the captain to attend the admiral. Benwick had hovered awkwardly until Frederick had rolled his eyes and informed him that of course he was coming; after all, he was now captain of the Laconia. What had been harder was persuading Demeter to stay put on the Laconia. In the end, Matthews had distracted her with the prospect of fresh fish for Frederick and Benwick to sneak away.

Even though logically Frederick knew that it wasn’t a great distance between the Laconia and the Commendable, it seemed as though it took forever for the jolly boat to make the trip and Frederick’s stomach was a swirling mass of knots the whole time. The minute that they boarded the Commendable, they were escorted to the Admirals cabin and it was clear that Croft knew something was up the moment that he saw them.

“Captain Wentworth and …. Captain Benwick?” There was the slightest crack in Croft’s composure as he took in the change of rank on Benwick’s epaulettes before he continued speaking, “I trust that there is a perfectly good explanation for the dragon that is currently lounging on the deck of the Laconia.”

“Yes Sir. The Laconia came across a French frigate moving up the coast from Spain towards France. She was somewhat smaller than the Laconia but had been rammed so full of extra guns and marines that she was sitting low in the water. Still, rather than attempting to flee us as we had expected, she stood her ground and prepared to fight. I am pleased to say that the crew of the Laconia acquitted themselves excellently and we were able to take the Papillon with very little loss of life. Once we had taken the ship, it became apparent that the crew were not in a good condition and that their entire focus had been upon the cargo that they were carrying. Upon inspection, it became apparent that the cargo was in the form of a rather rare dragon egg that was close to hatching. Despite us making good time with favourable weather, the dragon hatched while we were still at sea and had to be harnessed.”

“What are you trying to say Wentworth? That you harnessed the dragon? What about one of the mids or even one of your lieutenants?”

“We tried, Sir. We drew lots and one of the mids was chosen. However, when the dragon hatched, it wouldn’t accept Kent. Instead, it chose me.”

“What? Well make it choose someone else! You’re a bloody good Naval captain; we don’t need to lose you to the Aerial Corps.”

“We’ve tried Sir. Demeter will accept being under harness from no-one but myself.”

“Damn. This is far from being an ideal situation. Okay, so Benwick is currently in command of the Laconia. Who has the Papillon?”

“My first lieutenant, Miles.”

“Okay. Well, it’s a bit of a stretch to put both Benwick and Miles forward for command; having two lieutenants make post like this simply isn’t done but I would say that we can definitely ensure that Benwick retains captaincy of the Laconia. Speaking of which, Captain Benwick, while I may be a little premature please accept my congratulations on making post but, if you don’t mind, I’d like to speak to my brother-in-law in private.”

“Of course Sir, I’ll leave you to it. Frederick, I’ll see you back on the Laconia.”

With Benwick out of the room, Admiral Croft dropped his formal manner to simply become Frederick’s brother-in-law. Coming out from behind his desk, he embraced Frederick in a rough hug before heading over to the tray of alcohol that sat on the side table.

“Brandy? The sun’s well over the yard-arm.” Even as he spoke, Croft was pouring two generous measures of brandy, handing one of them to Frederick before sprawling in his seat. “Well, this is a pretty mess you’ve gotten yourself into, my boy. Lord knows what Sophy’s going to say.”

Frederick winced at that. His parents had died when he was very young and the age difference between he and his older siblings meant that Sophy and her husband had often taken on a parental role when Frederick wasn’t at sea. “Don’t remind me. She’s going to be furious. Last she knew, I was getting engaged and now I’ve turned up with a dragon.”

“Yes, well. It will all come out in the wash. I’ll send an express to the covert at Gibraltar as well as the Admiralty and another to an aviator Captain I know. Same story as you actually, Frederick. Captain William Laurence; had command of the Reliant before he was claimed by a dragon. Good sort of fellow, he might be willing to help. There’s a man on the island as well; Sir Edward Howe. He knows a lot about dragons, helped Laurence identify his if I remember rightly; he might be able to help you. We’ll send a note from the house. Come to think of it, you knew Wellesley – or Wellington as I hear we’re supposed to call him now – didn’t you? Best write to him as well.”

“I barely knew him but if you think I should write to him then I shall. No harm in it I suppose.” Frederick paused before he spoke again, “Thank you, Richard. I appreciate it.”

“Tosh. We both know Sophy would quite cheerfully kill me if I didn’t do everything I could and I’m rather fond of you myself. Now, you’ll join us for dinner won’t you?”

“I suppose I had better. It’d be good to see Sophy again and we’d never hear the end of it if she found out I hadn’t visited her immediately.”

“Good man, that’s the ticket! Come on, drink up. We’ll send a note to the Laconia and then we’ll get the jolly to row us into port.”

(~*~)

To say that Sophy Croft nee Wentworth was delighted to see her youngest brother was an understatement. In fact, if he hadn’t become inured to the sound of the piercing bosun’s whistle then Sophy’s cry of delight would have done serious damage to his hearing.

“Frederick! What a pleasant surprise. Richard didn’t mention that the Laconia was expected.” Correctly reading both men’s facial expressions, Sophy drew the right conclusion, “because you weren’t expected. Something has happened. Come on then, let’s hear it.”

“You may want to sit down first Sophy.” Frederick waited, ignoring Sophy’s huff of displeasure, until she had taken a seat before he continued talking. “Sophy, I’m no longer Captain of the Laconia; that privilege now belongs to Jamie Benwick.”

“But Frederick… What? How?”

“We ran into a French frigate about a week out of Funchal. Once we had captured her, it became apparent that they were carrying a dragon egg, an egg that hatched very soon after we took control of the ship. Sophy, the … the dragon chose me as it’s captain.”

“ _Oh Frederick!”_

The sympathy and pity in Sophy’s voice, even though she only said two words, was almost too much for Frederick to bear but he did his best to summon a smile. He knew that it wouldn’t pass muster with Sophy though. For all that she was his older sister, she was also the woman who had practically raised him, who had stood in for the mother that he had lost far too young. As such, he put up no protest as Sophy moved across the room and took his hand.

“Richard, what are you doing about all of this? You have to do something! Oh, this is like William Laurence all over again.”

Frederick looked at his brother-in-law with some shock. “She knows about Laurence?”

Richard Croft favoured him with a look that Frederick hadn’t seen since he was about thirteen and had done something particularly stupid. “Of course she knows about Laurence. When have you ever known me keep anything from your sister? Sophy, I’m doing what I can. I’ll send an express to the Admiralty and to Laurence himself by courier tonight. I’m doing all I can but, assuming that dragon is what we think it could be, there’s very little that we can do. Especially as it’s claimed Frederick as it’s Captain.”

“But what about Miss Anne? It seems as though you had only just written to announce your engagement.”

“I’m afraid that you may have to resign yourself to never being an aunt, Sophy. As much as I love Anne and as much as she loves me, I fear that there is no way that her family will permit me to marry her now.”

“But….”

“No buts Sophy, I shall just have to wait and see what happens once I’m back in England. Once I know my status I will be able to visit Anne and simply hope for the best. Now, I don’t suppose there is any chance of you feeding your poor sailor brother who has been at sea with nothing but half-rations for the last few weeks is there?”

He received a huff and a fond smile in response to his words as Sophy shook her head but stood to ring the bell. “Don’t think that I don’t know what you’re doing, trying to change the subject Frederick Wentworth. I’ll ring for supper now so if there’s any more business that you and Richard need to take care of, I suggest that you do it now.”

“Come then Frederick, I’ll send that express to Gibraltar and you can write to Sir Edward; I have the address in my study. If I know Sophy, she’ll feed you until you feel like the fatted calf and will barely be able to think after dinner, let alone write a letter of introduction!”

~*~

Two days after the unexpected dinner with his sister and brother-in-law, Frederick had a response to the note that he had sent to Sir Edward Howe stating that the man would be more than happy to meet with Frederick and Demeter. Frederick couldn’t help but be more than a little relieved. Richard Croft had sent the express off to the Gibraltar covert as promised but, even if it was travelling by dragon courier, it took time for a letter to make the journey.

Unfortunately, Demeter was struggling to understand this, regardless of how many times Frederick explained it to her and it was becoming harder and harder to keep her occupied. In desperation, Frederick had turned to taking her for several flights a day over the island, each one getting progressively longer until they were including great swathes of the ocean around the island. It seemed to be working and, whilst Demeter was in need of a nap after each flight Demeter, those periods of rest were slowly becoming shorter and shorter.

To Frederick’s relief, the prospect of knowing more about herself was a huge temptation and one that Demeter had jumped at. Indeed, once the note from Sir Edward had arrived stating that he would be more than happy to receive them, it had been all that Frederick could do to convince Demeter that such a thing as a proper hour to go visiting existed. When he had finally decreed that they could leave the Laconia, Demeter had all but exhausted herself in flying to the other side of the island to where Sir Edward said that he would be waiting for them. The area was deserted when they arrived and, seeing that Demeter was on the verge of getting very unhappy, Frederick sent her off to investigate the shallows while he awaited their dragon expert.

“Well, you Naval fellows are pretty lucky that I like vacationing on Funchal aren’t you? First Captain Laurence and that Celestial of his, now you…”

“Sir Edward Howe?” Frederick held out a hand to the man that had materialised by his side.

“I am indeed. You must be Captain Wentworth and _that_ must be Demeter.” Sir Edward shook hands with Frederick almost absent-mindedly, his attention already on where Demeter was all but frolicking in the shallows. “What a beauty, such a perfect mix of the two.”

“You know what she is then?” Frederick asked the question as they drifted closer to the shoreline and Demeter, who obviously heard his question as she moved closer, drawn by her curiosity.

“I do indeed. She’s quite unmistakeable to a man such as myself. It’s a pleasure to meet you, my dear,” Howe bowed as Demeter loomed over Frederick’s shoulder. “I am Sir Edward Howe and you must be Demeter.”

“I am and I am very pleased to meet you. Do you really know what type of dragon I am?”

“But of course. There is no doubt about it. Those markings and beautiful eyes of yours give it away, never mind those horns. We had heard rumours that the French were attempting to cross-breed but to see evidence of their success….”

Frederick did his best to remain patient as Sir Edward moved around Demeter, requesting that she spread her wings and running almost reverential fingers over her markings. Finally, when Sir Edward had made a full circuit, not trusting Demeter to be quite so polite, Frederick cleared his throat as politely as he could.

“Sir Edward? What breed is Demeter?”

“Why, she’s the perfect cross between a Flamme-de-Gloire and a Fleur-de-Nuit. The dragon that was intended for Napoleon himself. I imagine that the Admiralty will be pleased that she’s now on our side, not to mention Aerial Command. The Royal Society will be fascinated; I daresay they’ll ask me to give an address….”

“Will I be able to breathe fire?” Demeter clearly didn’t care a whit for the Royal Society and interrupted Sir Edward’s musings.

“Hmm? What, fire? Oh, I would say that’s more than likely. The Flamme-de-Gloire is known for its fire-breathing abilities. That being said, as a cross-breed, we likely won’t know which abilities you have taken from either breed until you’ve grown some more.”

“Oh.” Demeter sounded more than a little disappointed and Frederick ran a hand up and down her neck several times, hoping to soothe her. To his relief, Sir Edward’s next words did that for him.

“In all probability you will, but I cannot say for sure. I have several journals on the various breeds of dragon that I would be more than happy to send over to you; they both have large sections on the French dragon breeds. Although, a cross like you, I wonder if they’ve even named your breed yet? Fleur-de-Gloire doesn’t quite trip off the tongue like Flamme-de-Nuit but I’m getting ahead of myself. What ship are you on again?”

“The Laconia. Thank you, Sir Edward. I am more grateful than I can say for your assistance; you have been most helpful.”

“Not at all, dear fellow, not at all. The pleasure has been all mine; two rare dragons that I have had the privilege to see. All I ask is that you permit me to call on you at the covert back in England; I would dearly love to see how Demeter grows.”

“Of course Sir Edward. The honour would be ours.” Frederick gave a short bow and watched as Sir Edward ambled off with a wave over his shoulder. They did not know much more but at least they knew what type of dragon she was and hopefully the texts that Sir Edward had promised to send over would tell them more. In any case, it would have to be enough for now.

“Come Demeter, let us return to the Laconia.”

~*~

To Frederick’s relief, the knowledge of what breed she was settled Demeter to an extent. She was still somewhat restless but was easily placated by the offer from Frederick to pass along information from the journals that Sir Edward had sent over as well as the opportunity to go for longer flights over the island. Demeter’s appetite was ravenous and she had doubled in size since she had hatched, with more than a few of Funchal’s shepherds and herdsmen feeling rather nervous for their charges when Demeter flew overheard.

In the end, they didn’t have to worry for long. Not four days after Admiral Croft had sent his express, a courier arrived from the Gibraltar covert in the form of two dragons, both of them much smaller than Demeter. The dragons – two Winchesters - were introduced as Devastatio and Elsie along with their captains Miller and Hollin. Demeter had been most excited to finally meet with other dragons, having not had any interactions with other dragons thus far, and had stayed happily chattering away with them while Frederick received the dispatches from the Admiralty.

Reading them through, Frederick wasn’t entirely surprised by their contents. The Admiralty and Aerial Command were highly delighted by Frederick’s acquisition and wanted both man and dragon back in England as quickly as possible. A dragon transport had left Gibraltar four days ago and Aerial Command wanted Frederick and Demeter, escorted by the couriers, to fly north to meet it and return home. Frederick was skimming over the orders one more time when he heard the excited voice of Demeter.

“Frederick! Devastatio and Elsie say that we are to go with them to England; is that true?”

“It is indeed Demeter. The Admiralty wants us to report to Aerial Command as soon as possible. We must say our farewells this evening and leave in the morning.”

All of a sudden, Demeter was no longer quite so enthusiastic. “Farewells? To whom?”

“To everyone, Demeter. We shall be flying with Devastatio and Elsie along with Miller and Hollin but we shall leave the crew of the Laconia here in Funchal.”

“But what of Matthews? Surely he will come with us?”

“I do not know Demeter. For all of his expertise with dragons, Matthews has been a sailor all of his life. He may not wish to leave that behind but we shall ask him if he would like to come with us. As for me, I must away to my sister.”

~*~

Aerial Command was not somewhere that Frederick had ever thought much about. Why would he? He had always presumed that he would spend his life at sea. Now that he was finally here, he supposed that it was what he had expected. Situated in the sprawling countryside, it was equidistant between London and Dover for easy access both to Whitehall and to the sea. He had arrived only that morning, somewhat drained from the journey from Funchal, and had been ushered straight to the office of one Admiral Powys, leaving a rather tired and unhappy Demeter in the capable hands of Matthews – who had been more than happy to come with them. He was still several feet from the office when he realised that Powys wasn’t the only occupant of the room, although the other occupant sounded deeply unhappy at Frederick’s presence. Against his better judgement, Frederick couldn’t help but hover outside and listen to what was being said.

“It’s the second bloody time! How many more good dragons are going to be taken by bloody Naval officers? They don’t understand the life Powys! This was a dragon intended for Napoleon, one specifically bred for him and it’s ended up in the hands of some sailor who doesn’t deserve it!”

Knowing that if he lingered any longer he would be caught, and not really wanting to hear much more, Frederick rapped loudly on the door and stepped inside the office when he was bid to enter. Once inside the office, it was quickly obvious that both men were Admirals and Frederick was assuming that the man seated behind the desk was Admiral Powys himself.

“Admiral Powys?”

“Ah, Captain Wentworth. Yes, I’m Powys and this is Admiral Bowen. You made it here from Funchal without problems?”

“Yes Sir. Demeter struggled with the flying at first but she’s getting stronger – and bigger – every day.”

At Frederick’s words, Bowen started grumbling again, his unhappiness clearly sparked by Frederick’s mention of Demeter. The words weren’t completely audible but the two men had obviously known each other long enough that that wasn’t necessary.

“Bowen, enough!” Powys snapped out the words and the other Admiral’s mouth snapped closed although he still looked mutinous while Powys continued talking. “You have friends in high places, Wentworth. You’re a lucky man indeed. Captains Laurence and Granby will be arriving at the Dover covert in two days; you’re to meet them there. Dismissed.”


	4. Chapter Three

‘I can and will deny any man, or beast, the right to tear apart the foundations of our state’. Wellington’s words seemed to be moving through his mind on a continual loop, unwilling to give up the foothold that they had found upon his brain. He knew that he had been lucky, that _they_ had been lucky. Transportation and labour was a small price to pay when, by all rights, he should have been hanged for his actions. Temeraire may not agree, but Laurence was more than willing to do whatever was asked of him as penance. Temeraire was far less willing but, given the option of obeying or being forced to part from Laurence once more, he had admitted that this was the lesser of two evils.

“I’m afraid that the view isn’t going to change Will, no matter how long you glare at it.”

Looking to his left, Laurence was unsurprised to see the familiar figure of John Granby leaning over the rails of the Allegiance in an identical position to himself. The arrival of Granby and Iskierka less than 48 hours after they had left Sheerness dock had been completely unlooked for but Laurence had never been so grateful for Iskierka’s wilful disobedience and impetuousness. He was also beyond grateful for the friendship of one John Granby. Granby may insist that they had arrived due to Iskierka’s deep-seated desire to have an egg with both fire and the Divine Wind but Laurence also had the feeling that Granby was there due to his friendship with Laurence. After all, he was not totally incapable of controlling Iskierka, particularly since he actions had previously resulted in him being captured and imprisoned by Napoleon. Still, if Granby wanted to insist that he was there due to Iskierka then Laurence was happy to go along with his reasoning.

“I’m well aware of that Granby but what else is there for me to do for the next seven months? Longer if we continue to make such slow progress as we do now.”

“Yes, I had thought that we would have made it to Gibraltar at least by now. Then again, dragon transports do tend to move slower, even if the weather is favourable.”

Just as he had done more than a few times since Granby had arrived, Laurence opened his mouth to thank Granby for abandoning his life, his career, his reputation to join Laurence. As usual, he struggled to find the words. There were so many things that he felt he had to thank Granby for during their years of friendship that he didn’t even know where to start. Laurence considered himself to be relatively well-educated and articulate but, even so, the words that he wanted – that he needed – would not come. All he could do was hope that Granby knew how much Laurence appreciated his presence, even if Laurence never spoke it out loud.

Incapable of finding the right thing to say, he instead let the two of them fall into a companiable silence that Laurence only broke some time later when he caught sight of Temeraire and Iskierka heading back towards the ship, flying playfully through the waves.

“Why did you truly come Granby? Not that I am ungrateful for your presence. Indeed, nothing could be further from the truth but still, why would you subject yourself and Iskierka to this unnecessarily? John?”

Granby took such a long time in responding that Laurence actually started to become more than a little concerned. He had thought Iskierka’s desire for an egg combined with – he hoped – Granby’s friendship was the reasoning behind their arrival but Granby’s silence seemed to suggest otherwise. Instantly, Laurence was running through any number of possible scenarios through his mind, most of them admittedly centred around what Iskierka could have done to make them leave England.

Just as Granby finally opened his mouth to speak, a cry of “Dragons!” went up from the crows nest and Granby’s mouth snapped shut with an audible click. More irritated than he felt he really had a right to be, Laurence swung around to tell whichever idiot sailor that of course there would be dragons as they were on a dragon transport, only for the words to die in his mouth.

Flying in from the opposite direction – the direction of England – to Temeraire and Iskierka, and possible the reason for their return, was a patrol made up of one heavyweight, two middleweights and two couriers.

And they were heading straight for the Allegiance.

(~*~)

“Oh! Laurence! It is Mortiferus and Crescendium. And Elsie! I wonder that they are here and not still at Dover. Why do you suppose that they have come?”

Temeraire and Iskierka had made good time and made it back to the Allegiance before the approaching formation and Temeraire’s keen eyesight was able to see what Laurence could not, making out several of the approaching dragons.

“I do not know Temeraire, I suppose that we shall find out when they land.” Laurence himself was doing his best to project calm but he couldn’t help but worry. What reason would a patrol have to come after them? Surely there was nothing more that the British government could do to him? Had not transportation and a sentence of hard labour been enough to satisfy them? He did not dare look at Granby and instead focused on Riley when he came up from his cabin.

In no time at all, the formation was upon them and there were seven dragons fighting for space on the deck. Par for the course, Iskierka was being her usual charming self and thus as awkward as she could possibly be while all of the others tried to be accommodating, given the circumstances. Eventually, they reached a compromise with Temeraire and Animosia – a Parnassian – taking up most of the space with Mortiferus and Crescendium coiled around them with Elsie and Celoxia, the Winchester and Greyling couriers, perched on Animosia’s back. Riley ordered that some food be brought up for the visiting formation, hurriedly adjusting his orders as Iskierka huffily snorted a jet of steam and waving off Granby’s muttered apologies as he did so. With the dragons hunger sated and all of them bar Temeraire settling down for a sleep, Riley led the aviators, Laurence and Granby down to his cabin.

“Not that you are unwelcome but I have to ask, what are you doing here gentlemen? We were not expecting any further contact from London.”

As Riley finished speaking, Laurence noted an odd shadow outside the window of Riley’s cabin and knew that Temeraire was listening to the conversation about to ensue. Feeling that Temeraire had just as much right to listen as Laurence, he didn’t say anything and instead turned his attention back to the conversation as Sanderson, Animosia’s captain, started to speak.

“Admiral Roland sent us, Sir. On urgent business with Captains Laurence and Granby.”

Laurence jerked at the use of the title that he had been stripped of as a result of his actions.

“We’ve been charged with a task from General Wellesley, the Duke of Wellington, himself. Captains Laurence, Granby and their dragons are recalled to England with immediate effect and they are to report to the General in Whitehall as soon as feasibly possible. The Allegiance is to continue on to the Gibraltar covert and await further orders there.”

Laurence’s head was spinning and a glance at Granby showed that he was equally as befuddled. The two of them could do nothing more than stand in shock as Riley read through the papers that Sanderson handed him. Laurence found himself holding his breath as Riley finished reading and placed the orders on the desk, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Everything looks to be in order. Laurence, Granby, I suggest that you pack your things; you’ll be returning to England as soon as you and your dragons are ready and Captain Sanderson’s formation is recovered. Until then, gentlemen, the Allegiance is at your disposal.”

Making his way up onto the deck, delight and disbelief warred within Laurence. Sensing the strange place that he was in, Granby simply grasped Laurence’s shoulder and then left him in the company of a delighted Temeraire.

“Are they speaking the truth, Laurence? They’re not really sending us to Australia? We’re going home? And you’re a Captain again?”

Laurence had to swallow heavily before he found himself capable of speaking, resting a hand on Temeraire’s neck to ground him somewhat. “It would appear so, dear one. It would appear so.”

~*~

The instant that they landed at the London covert, having parted with their escort with the exception of Elsie as they passed over the cliffs of Dover, Laurence and Granby were swept off to Whitehall with no time to even change. Once in Whitehall, they were directed to buildings that they had never visited before and informed that they were to wait until Wellesley was ready to see them. The way that the adjutant spoke implied that they could be waiting quite a while, something which didn’t surprise either man. After all, the King may have returned to London but Wellesley was still de facto commander of the British government as well as its army. As a result, both Laurence and Granby sat back to watch the comings and goings of various underlings as they waited to be summoned.

To their surprise, they weren’t waiting all that long before a lieutenant appeared before them and showed them into an office where Wellesley sat behind a desk that was piled high with papers, Wellesley’s sword and pistol rather haphazardly perched on the top of two of said piles.

“General Wellesley?”

“Gentlemen, I have no doubt that you are wondering why you’ve been brought here and I simply do not have the time to make small talk so I shall cut to the chase. The fact of the matter is that we have another dragon who has claimed a Naval Captain and the dragon is already proving to be just as infuriatingly stubborn as your damn beasts.”

“Sir?” Laurence wasn’t entirely sure what he could say to that. What was there to say? A covert glance at Granby showed that he was equally nonplussed.

“Oh don’t take that attitude with me. You two have a pair of the most intractable dragons in the whole bloody Aerial Corps and this beast looks as though it could go the same way. Hopefully it’s still young enough that we can retain some control over it. We need to retain control over it; we certainly can’t go losing it to the French, not having captured it from them in the first place.”

“What type of dragon is it, my Lord?”

“Damned if I can remember and I haven’t got time to search out the letter. Some crossbreed intended for Napoleon; first successful hatching by all accounts but I don’t give a damn about the dragon other than what it can do for this country and our fight against that French bastard. The gentleman who has ended up harnessing it is an acquaintance of mine; a Captain Wentworth. He served on the ship that brought me home from India before being making a bit of a name for himself serving in the Caribbean and the Med. He’s a bloody good Naval captain, or at least he was before all of this happened. Had one of the only two frigates that survived Shoeburyness, been running patrols and manning the fencibles ever since. His brother-in-law is Admiral Croft, commander of the Mediterranean. I believe you know of him, Laurence?”

“Yes, sir. He was my commander as well and I served under him at the Battle of the Nile.”

“Quite so. Your instructions are to help Wentworth adjust to being a dragon captain after being at sea; you’re the only person who’s done it and Admiral Croft hasn’t been afraid to call in a few favours to ensure that you were the one charged with the task of looking after his brother-in-law. He seems to be that you’re the only one capable of undertaking the task, regardless of how problematic you’ve been in recent months. As loathe as I am to admit it, you and your beasts have served Britain well as long as you control them - although I’m not convinced by the amount of control you have over them - and besides, this new one could prove vital in the fight against Napoleon.

Now, Admiral Roland can give you more information about the dragon when you see her, I’ve told you all that you need to know for the moment. She’ll introduce you to Wentworth upon your arrival; he’s been at the Dover covert for the last few days. In addition, because it is necessity rather than because I want it, you are restored to your previous rank Laurence while you will obviously retain your captaincy Granby.”

Wellesley looked up at them from his desk and the papers that he had been staring at the whole time that he had been speaking.

“I’d like to make it clear that I’m far from happy about this situation. If I had my way, then you would still be on that bloody transport bound for Australia. However, the gentleman involved in this mess is a friend of mine and, God knows how, but you two are the best people to help him. You have no idea how much I dislike this but the British Empire is at stake and we must do what we must. Aerial Command are hardly happy about another Naval officer swanning in and taking one of the most promising dragons but neither are Naval Command happy to lose an officer of Wentworth’s calibre. This needs to work to placate both sides. Let me make one thing perfectly clear however. If either one of you or your dragons gets up to your old tricks then there will be no transmutation of sentence. I will bring the full power of British military justice down on your heads. Are we understood? Good. Now, get out. Admiral Roland is expecting you at the Dover covert first thing tomorrow.”

What could either Laurence or Granby say to that? Exchanging a quick glance, they gave a bow that they weren’t even sure was seen by Wellesley as he had returned to his paperwork before making their escape and heading back to their temporary lodgings in the London covert.

(~*~)

By tacit agreement, Laurence and Granby did not speak until they were back in the small chambers that they had been assigned to in the covert. The London covert was nothing like those at Loch Laggan or Dover; small and rather worn-down, it hadn’t benefited from its brief French occupation. Nevertheless, it was a place for them to lay their heads for the night and the support staff that were based there permanently had managed to cobble together a fairly decent meal for the two of them as well as several remarkably good bottles of French wine that had been left behind.

After the long flight and then their subsequent interview with the Duke of Wellington, both men were ravenous and talk fell by the wayside until their appetites had been satisfied and they had all but finished the wine. Only when they were replete and as comfortable as they could be in their surroundings, did Laurence break the comfortable silence wanting to talk before they had to leave for Dover the following morning.

"So, what do you make of all this?"

"I want to know what type of dragon it is. Bred for Boney himself? It's hardly going to be something common, is it? Do you think Lien has given him an egg?"

And there it was. Granby had voiced the question that had had Laurence's mind whirring since they had spoken with Wellesley. Had Lien given Napoleon an egg?

"I don't know. He may be an Emperor - or at least calling himself one - but he isn't exactly royalty, is he? And, unless there's a Celestial or Imperial in Europe that isn't Temeraire, I can't see her deigning to let a lesser breed near her. I think it's more likely to be a cross between one of the more common breeds."

"You think she's been successful with her excitements on the Fleur-de-Nuit?"

"It seems like the most likely option; don't you think? If she has been successful and we've managed to get the dragon, then it's a huge coup for the Aerial Corps. For England."

"A shame another one of you bloody Naval types has got his hands on it then, eh?" Granby's words were accompanied by a grin to show that he was teasing.

Laurence couldn't help but grin in response. "Well I don't know. I didn't turn out too badly did I?"

"Must have been that excellent first lieutenant you had."

It was clear, both from the teasing tone of voice and the glint of mirth in his eyes, that Granby hadn’t meant his words as anything other than light-hearted but Laurence couldn’t let them slide. Confidence buoyed by the alcohol that they had imbibed, Laurence found the words that he had been wanting to say since Granby had arrived unexpectedly on the Allegiance, albeit somewhat more clumsily than he had hoped for.

“No doubt about it. No, no, you can’t deny it John. I would not be half the dragon captain that I am – poor as that may be – without you and your guidance. I hope you know just how much I’m going to rely on you to train this new captain; you’ll do a far better job than I. I’d probably just teach it how to betray King and Country.”

“You need to stop talking such rubbish, Will. You’ve had too much wine, that’s all. You’re a bloody good captain and you always have been, I just taught you how to transfer your skills from a ship to a dragon.”

“You did more than that, John, and you know it. I don’t have the words to say how grateful I was when you and Iskierka arrived on the Allegiance, for your support over the last few years. I would be truly lost without your friendship.”

Laurence thought that he saw a myriad of emotions flicker across Granby’s face at his words; sadness, disappointment, resignation and something that he couldn’t truly identify. But, they were gone before he could say anything and then the foggy haze of alcohol truly took over his mind.

~*~

The journey from London to the Dover covert took no time at all and both Laurence and Granby couldn’t help but exchange relieved grins at the sight of the familiar covert. For Laurence, the feeling of relief and familiarity was almost overwhelming. A large part of him had truly thought that he would never see this again and he couldn’t help but be grateful to whatever forces had conspired to bring him back.

As they came in to land, the covert seemed busier than it had done the last time that they were here with dragons and men all over. Looking around as Temeraire and Iskierka landed, Laurence and Granby saw plenty of familiar faces both amongst the aviators and the dragons but, just as everyone else, their attention was drawn by the unknown dragon that occupied a shady corner of the courtyard. This was the reason that they had been brought back to London, the reason that Laurence’s sentence had been overturned. Knowing that one more person staring wouldn’t be noticed, Laurence indulged in his curiosity and stared at the dragon, aware that Granby was doing the same.

It was a handsome creature, there was no denying it. Fairly large, it wasn’t as big as either Temeraire or Iskierka but definitely appeared to be closer to a heavyweight rather than a middleweight. In terms of colouring, it was very similar to Temeraire but with deep blue markings spread across the edges of its wings as well as having large curved horns protruding from its forehead. Laurence could practically feel the waves of curiosity coming from Temeraire while Iskierka was muttering comments at Granby’s side. Privately, Laurence couldn’t help but hope that they weren’t going to have too many problems, that this dragon was going to be a little more docile than both Temeraire and Iskierka; god knows that they already had their hands full with those two.

The sound of a throat being cleared had Laurence turning away from the dragon and seeing Dixon, one of Excidium’s ground crew, stood at his side.

“Dixon.”

“Captain Laurence, Captain Granby. Admiral Roland has asked to see you in her chambers; she has someone she wants you to meet.”

Laurence and Granby exchanged glances, knowing that this guest of Admiral Roland’s was the friend of the Duke of Wellington’s that had, however unwittingly, enabled their return. Speaking briefly to their dragons, they followed Dixon out of the courtyard and in the direction of the Admiral’s chambers. As soon as they reached their destination, Dixon knocked on the door before unceremoniously opening it without waiting for a response. As they walked into the room, two figures turned to face them, one the familiar form of Jane Roland and the second was clearly the Naval captain who now found himself in the same position that Laurence himself had once been in. Laurence found himself staring at the blond-haired, blue-eyed officer still wearing his naval uniform as Admiral Roland gestured him forward and made the introductions.

“Captain Wentworth, this is Captain William Laurence of Temeraire and Captain John Granby of Iskierka. Gentlemen, I’d like you to meet the newest member of the Aerial Corps. Recently recruited from the Royal Navy, this is Captain Frederick Wentworth. You probably saw his Demeter in the courtyard as you landed.”


	5. Chapter Four

As he got a good look at the man that Admiral Roland had just introduced, Laurence all but froze up. Looking at this Captain Wentworth was like looking into a mirror and Laurence’s words to Granby the previous night came flooding back to him. To his immense relief, Granby seemed to realise that something was going on and stepped forward before the already somewhat awkward silence became too prolonged, holding his hand out to the other man.

“Captain John Granby. As Admiral Roland says, Iskierka’s my dragon; she’s a Kazilik. With you having this new cross-breed, you can join Laurence and I in our club of weird and wonderful dragons. Very exclusive; including you there are now three of us. Everyone else here has British-bred dragons.”

“What dragon do you have then Sir, if you don’t mind my asking?”

Laurence blinked almost stupidly as he realised that Wentworth had addressed him. “Sorry. Captain William Laurence and Temeraire is a Celestial; a Chinese dragon.”

“The same as…”

Laurence nodded as Wentworth trailed off. “The same as Lien, yes. You’ve seen her?”

“I was part of the action at Shoeburyness. My … my old ship – the Laconia – was one of the only two that survived. We saw … Lien pass overhead.”

The atmosphere in the room took something of a downwards turn as thoughts turned to the battle that they had all been present at and where so many thousands of lives had been lost. It was Granby who finally broke the silence – again -, clearing his throat to draw the attention to him.

“So, Wentworth, what type of dragon is yours? Wellesley couldn’t remember yesterday – or didn’t care to. We caught a glimpse of her but she’s hiding in a corner of the courtyard so we didn’t get a good look at her.”

“Yes, she hasn’t had many interactions with other dragons so I think she’s being a bit shy despite her usual curiosity. As for what she is, we were rather fortunate that Sir Edward Howe likes to vacation on Funchal. He said that she’s a cross between a Flamme-de-Gloire and a Fleur-de-Nuit. In the likelihood that they hadn’t named her breed yet, he suggested Flamme-de-Nuit.”

As Wentworth talked, Laurence mentally ran through the characteristics of both breeds before he exchanged glances with Granby. This was news indeed and they could easily see why Wellesley, whilst being disappointed at both the loss of another Naval officer and not being able to rid himself of Laurence and Temeraire, had called them back. This dragon was another coup and the British were lucky that it was in their hands. Of course, there was no guarantee that the new dragon _would_ breathe fire but if she could then that gave them two fire-breathers and that was without taking into consideration any traits from the Fleur-de-Nuit that she had.

Regardless, the three dragons were going to make a formidable team as it was quickly becoming apparent to Laurence that that was what was intended eventually. Temeraire could fit into formation when necessary but chafed under the restrictions somewhat whilst, despite Granby’s experience and best intentions, Iskierka was a disaster and a menace to the rest of the formation. However, as part of a smaller group – a strike team of sorts – they may well be more successful. Laurence could only hope that they had more success training this Demeter than they had training Iskierka; he wasn’t at all convinced that she could be described as a success. A hellion was far more apt.

“Well, let’s not waste any time. Shall we go down and meet her?”

“By all means, gentlemen. Please, lead the way.”

(~*~)

As they entered the courtyard, it became apparent that nobody had left. Indeed, it seemed as though there were even more aviators and dragons milling around and Frederick’s eyes immediately sought out Demeter, seeing that she was still in the shady corner that she had claimed as her own and that she had been joined by Matthews, who was hopefully helping to keep her calm given the scrutiny that she was under. Excusing himself, he made his way over to her, nodding his head at Matthews in greeting and resting a hand on Demeter’s neck. She craned her neck to look at him with some excitement.

“Look at all the other dragons, Frederick! There are so many types. Why are they all here?”

“They’re here to meet you, Demeter. There’s never been a dragon breed like you before and besides, these are the dragons and people that we’re going to be working with once they’ve trained us.”

“Us? You’re definitely going to be staying with me?”

“Yes, I’m definitely going to be staying with you, especially after that tantrum that you threw in front of Wellesley. Wellesley and Aerial Command are far from happy but have accepted that you won’t take another captain.”

“And why should I take who they want me to? I could have had anyone that I wanted on your ship but I chose you. Why would anyone they offered be better than you?”

“Because they would be a trained Aerial captain already but it matters not, Captain’s Laurence and Granby have agreed to train us both.”

“That is good of them. Which ones are they?” Demeter cast a curious eye over the gathered crews. “Why don’t you come out of your corner and I will introduce you?”

Frederick took several steps forward towards Laurence and Granby who had been joined by what Frederick presumed were their dragons and he couldn’t help but be amazed by the size of them. Logically, he had known that Demeter was really nothing more than a dragonet, that despite her quick growth, she still had an awful lot of growing to do but being in close proximity to all of these dragons truly brought that fact home to him. He heard a rustle behind him and turned his head to see that Demeter had crept out of her corner and now stood just behind him.

“Demeter, this is Captain William Laurence and his dragon, Temeraire.”

“It’s lovely to meet you Demeter, what breed of dragon are you?” Temeraire had lowered his head but, even so, he was still peering down at her.

“You’re big.” Frederick bit back his laughter as Demeter fumbled over her words, “um, that is to say, I’m a cross between a Flamme-de-Gloire and a Fleur-de-Nuit.”

“How interesting, I didn’t think they’d been successful with that. What are they going to call your breed? Do you know?”

“Sir Edward Howe suggested Flamme-de-Nuit. I rather like it.”

“Yes, that does makes sense. I wonder which attributes you will have from both breeds.”

“Or she might have none at all.”

“And this is Captain John Granby and his dragon, Iskierka.”

In contrast to Temeraire’s warm greeting, Iskierka’s was lukewarm at best. Indeed, it was best described as dismissive. The Kazilik looked Demeter over from nose to tail before giving a dismissive sniff and turning her back with a flick of her tail.

“Well, I don’t see what all the fuss is about, Granby. Did we really get brought back for this?”

Frederick patted Demeter’s shoulder in what he hoped was a reassuring manner as he exchanged rueful glances with the other two captains while there were more than a few snickers from the aviators gathered around them.

They were certainly going to be in for a wild ride.

~*~

As he made his way up to his rooms, Frederick couldn’t help but hope that there was a hot bath waiting for him. It felt as though every single inch of him hurt and he was definitely feeling his age. He had only officially been part of the corps for a little over a week but it certainly felt like much longer. He was convinced that both dragons and captains of the formation had tried to cram six weeks training into that one week. Both Laurence and Granby had informed him that training wasn’t usually rushed through at this speed – although Laurence’s had been – as captains were usually members of the aerial corps from a young age but war had a habit of changing things. Besides, while the training was hard and the Dover covert was far from being the Laconia, Frederick was slowly starting to find his place here.

Much of that, he knew, was down to the concerted efforts of both Laurence and Granby. They might not be Harville and Benwick but they were proving to be good friends nonetheless. It had been somewhat awkward to begin with, Frederick worrying that he was something of an intrusion upon their friendship but both men had quickly reassured him that that was not the case and now the three of them could usually be found in each other’s company most of the time. In fact, Frederick would be spending the evening with them once he had bathed and changed and he would be forever grateful that they had welcomed him with open arms as they had.

Frederick had already seen Demeter taken care of and left safely in the hands of Matthews and her new crew. Admiral Roland had had a number of men and boys assigned to Demeter as her ground crew and they had willingly assimilated Matthews into their number, much to Frederick’s relief. He had been more than a little worried that Matthews, a lifelong sailor, had been forced to abandon the life that he had known since he was a boy on the whim of a dragonet but Matthews had reassured Frederick time and time again that that was not the case and that he truly was happy here. Laurence himself certainly appreciated the familiar face.

No, with Demeter in the careful hands of her new crew, undoubtedly having persuaded Marks – one of the younger lads – to read to her, all Laurence could do was hope that Iskierka behaved herself, seeing as her attitude towards the younger female dragon hadn’t improved at all since she and Temeraire had been introduced to Temeraire and all three captains were at something of a loss with regards with what to do with the situation or how to improve it. As he arrived in his rooms, almost crying in relief at the sight of the tub filled with steaming water, Frederick’s thoughts turned to the two captains that he had been spending his time with.

William Laurence and John Granby.

Frederick mulled over the friendship between the two men as he soaked in the bathtub, feeling the heat permeate through his bruised and battered body, leeching into muscles that were still unused to long hours atop dragon back. Laurence and Granby. It was almost as though they were joined at the hip, so rare was it to find one without the other. It seemed to Frederick that they were almost always in each other’s company. The two men were so different yet still clearly close. Granby, the younger of the two, seemed to be of a more gregarious nature than Laurence. He was also more physically affectionate than Laurence although that wasn’t difficult as Frederick was fairly certain that the only person he had seen Laurence initiate physical contact with was his dragon. To Frederick’s intrigue however, Granby only offered up hugs to one person – Laurence – just as he only called Laurence by his Christian name, although he must have known the other aviators for far longer having been in the corps his whole life.

Yet, despite Granby’s easier social skills, there definitely seemed to be a slight awkwardness between him and Little, one of the other captains in the formation. Indeed, Little himself seemed to be something of an oddity amongst the other captains being rather quiet and softly spoken whereas all the rest seemed to share the same high, cheerful spirits and knack of easy speech. Catherine Harcourt, the de facto leader of the formation and Captain of Lily, was the only exception but Frederick had not been much in her company. Still, the awkwardness of the interactions between Granby and Little made Frederick as to the nature of their origins. He supposed that he could make enquiries but he didn’t want to appear nosy or draw attention to something that only he had seen. Besides, it was probably nothing more than a simple argument.

Directing his thoughts back to Laurence and Granby, part of Frederick couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to the relationship between the two men than simple friendship but that wasn’t something that he could simply come out and ask them; he wouldn’t even do it were they men that he had known for years. For one thing, he could be completely and utterly wrong and there was nothing between them but friendship. For another, if he was correct, then there were a whole host of implications.

Indeed, rather horrifyingly, the papers in the year six had reported that more people had been hanged for sodomy than murder. On board ship, buggery carried a higher punishment penalty than either mutiny or desertion and Frederick counted himself lucky that, in his tenure as captain, he had never had to punish any of his men as he had heard one captain had been forced to; one thousand lashes to each man, the mere thought of it made Frederick shudder. He didn’t know what the exact rules were in the Aerial Corps but he doubted that penalties differed that much from either the Army or the Navy. No, far better and far safer that he say nothing at all.

Instead, he allowed his thoughts to drift towards Anne, as they so often did when he was alone. If possible, he missed her even more now than he had whilst he was on board ship. On the Laconia, there had been hundreds if not thousands of miles of sea between them but here at the Dover covert, yes there were still hundreds of miles between them but they were traversable miles. She was so near yet so far because the amount of training that was still needed to get Frederick and Demeter into fighting shape was still almost overwhelming and duty to King and country had to come before love.

A loud banging on the door jerked him from his thoughts and alerted him to the fact that the water was cooling rapidly around him.

“Frederick! Are you still alive in there? You haven’t drowned have you?”

“Yes Granby, I should hope it would take more than bathwater to finish me off.”

“You Naval men and your wit. We’ll be in Will’s rooms when we’re dressed. If you hurry, dinner will still be hot.”

“I’m on my way!”

~*~

“Frederick?”

The man in question looked up from his somewhat half-hearted attempt to write a letter to Harville. He had no doubt that Benwick would have written to enlighten him as to what had been happening but he still felt the need to write to his former right-hand – and good friend – in person. The problem was that he wasn’t completely certain how to detail all of the events that had occurred without being anything other than horribly blunt. Then again, Harville was a man of the world. Surely ‘we capture a dragon egg, it hatched and chose me, I was forced to resign my commission’ would suffice? Somewhat stuck, he therefore welcomed Demeter’s interruption with open arms.

“Yes, Demeter?”

“May I ask you a question?”

Frederick couldn’t hold back a smile at the phrasing of the dragon’s question. Since their arrival and subsequent introduction to the rest of the formation, Temeraire had taken Demeter under his wing and, finding her a more studious pupil than Iskierka, was intent on teaching her all he could and they were currently covering all of the intricacies of English grammar.

“Of course you may. What would you like to know?”

“Who is Anne? I have heard you mention her to Laurence and Granby – not that I was listening on purpose – more than once but you always sound sort of sad when you speak of her. Who is she and why does she make you sad?”

“Anne is Miss Anne Elliot, Demeter, and she is my fiancée.”

“What is a fiancée?”

“A fiancée is a lady who is engaged to be married. I asked for Miss Anne’s hand in marriage and she accepted my proposal.”

“So you are in love!” Demeter sounded utterly delighted. “But that is wonderful news, is it not? Surely you should be happy rather than sad? I do not understand, Frederick.”

“It is all rather complicated, Demeter.”

“We have time now; will you not explain it to me?”

Frederick hesitated, only to regret it when Demeter took his hesitance to mean that he did not want to discuss it with her.

“You do not have to tell me if you do not wish, I just thought…”

“I will happily explain it to you Demeter, I was simply wondering where to start; it is a bit of a complex tale. This is … not the first time that Anne and I have been engaged.”

“Really? You have been engaged before? To each other?”

“Yes,” Frederick couldn’t help but laugh at the dragon’s disbelief, “to each other. We were engaged for a brief spell in the year six before Anne’s family persuaded her that it was not a good match and she called off the engagement.”

“But … that’s terrible.” Demeter was both horrified and utterly enthralled at hearing of this part of Frederick’s life. “What happened then?”

Frederick smiled and settled himself more comfortably before proceeding to relate the rest of his and Anne’s story to Demeter, the Flamme-de-Nuit hanging on his every word until she knew everything.

“And there you have it. Anne agreed to marry me again but that was when I was Captain of the Laconia. Whether she will still want to be my wife now that I am a dragon captain remains to be seen.”

“But why wouldn’t she want to marry you if you’re a dragon captain? Surely she should want to marry you because you’re a dragon captain? Especially because you’re my Captain. After all, I was expected to be a gift for Napoleon.”

There was a snort that could have only come from Iskierka but Demeter resolutely ignored it and Frederick rewarded her with a scratch of the softer scales under her jaw.

“Not everybody sees dragons and the Aerial Corps as we do. Or rather as I do now. I will willingly own to my previous – and erroneous – belief that the Aerial Corps was somehow lesser than the other branches of the British military. However, to a family such as Anne’s, they could imagine nothing worse than her being married to an aviator.”

“But she loves you! You said so! Surely if you visited her and explained things? If she defied her family to accept your second proposal, I’m sure this wouldn’t stop her. You should go and see her; I’m sure that Laurence and Granby would let you go.”

“We would.”

Frederick startled, craning his neck to see that Laurence had appeared at some point. “But Admiral Roland…”

“Leave Jane to me, Demeter is right. You need to visit your Miss Anne and finalise things between you once and for all; moping and wondering what-if here at the Covert won’t do you any good.”

There was a pause, as though Laurence was gathering his thoughts, before he spoke again. “I was in the same position once upon a time. I was the third son of Lord Allendale, a young, successful Naval Captain in love with a young lady who it was widely believed that I would marry. And then a dragon chose me and I was an Aerial Captain instead of a Naval Captain. It was made clear that I was no longer an acceptable choice of a future husband and she ended up marrying an acquaintance of mind, a Mr Bertram Woolvey who was his father’s heir and altogether a better match.”

Both Demeter and Frederick tried to offer their apologies but Laurence waved them off. “It was a long time ago. Besides, whilst I may not have thought so at the time but things turned out for the best.”

Something in Laurence’s voice made Frederick look up, following the other man’s gaze to where Granby had just entered the courtyard and was reminded of his previous musings on the true nature of the relationship between the two men.

“In all seriousness Frederick, go and see your Miss Anne. She sounds a rare breed herself and you’ll only regret it if you don’t go.”

~*~

In the end, Frederick had been at the Dover covert for the best part of a month before the opportunity arose for him to take a trip into Somerset and visit Anne. All of the doubts and fears that he had managed to block from his mind by focusing on his training with the formation had returned with a vengeance. He hadn’t received any post from Anne since those letters he had been given prior to their capture of the Papillon although he did not doubt that she had written more. The question was, what had become of them? He hadn’t received anything but official correspondence and one brief note from Sophy since he had been at the covert; had the Admiralty simply disposed of his letters or had they merely returned them to Anne with no explanation? If it was the latter, then there was a very real possibility that Anne was labouring under the false illusion that Frederick was dead.

He hadn’t bothered hiring a carriage, knowing that he was travelling light enough that he could travel quicker by himself on horseback. Demeter had been less than impressed when it became apparent that Frederick intended to travel without her but had been somewhat mollified by Temeraire’s offer to teach her Chinese. Both Laurence and Granby had assured Frederick that they would keep an eye on Demeter, even though her ground-crew was more than capable and advised him to seize the opportunity while he could. Frederick had accepted gratefully, not envying Granby’s task at all. Despite Demeter’s generally sweet nature, Iskierka was not a fan and had been downright possessive and jealous of Temeraire and his time. Granby had done his best to get her to behave but he wasn’t always successful and, on some occasions, it had taken the combined efforts of Laurence, Granby and Frederick to avoid catastrophe. This time though, it wasn’t Frederick’s problem; Iskierka could do whatever she wanted as long as Frederick got to see Anne.

He made good time to Kellynch, only stopping to change his horse and simply snatching enough food to keep him going. Once he arrived at Kellynch, he didn’t bother to change, not caring about the mud that splattered his boots and coat. He knew that it wasn’t the done thing and normally he wouldn’t dream of doing such a thing but the news that the covert had received just before he left drove his actions. Rumours were rife that not only was Napoleon planning on invading Spain but that his predatory gaze was turned to the east as well. If either rumour was true, then the majority of the Aerial Corps would be bidding farewell to English shores and heading to war. And Frederick with them.

The footman looked distinctly unimpressed with Frederick’s dishevelled appearance but, though he was reluctant, he still ushered Frederick through into the parlour. The second that he entered the room, Frederick realised that Anne wasn’t alone and resisted the urge to groan when he saw who her companions were; Miss Elizabeth Elliot herself and Frederick’s biggest critic and opponent, Lady Anne Russell. Still, Anne herself at least seemed pleased albeit puzzled at seeing him, which Frederick supposed was better than nothing. In fact, she seemed most concerned as she laid her needlework aside.

“Frederick! I wasn’t expecting to see you. Is everything well?”

However much he might dislike them, Frederick had no intention of giving Elizabeth or Lady Russell any reason to fault him so he gave a bow in their direction. “Lady Russell, Miss Elliot.” Formalities dispensed with, he strode over to Anne and, taking her hand in his, pressed a kiss to it. “Anne, I apologise for my appearance but I must talk with you.”

A frown marred Anne’s expression but she nodded her head in assent. “Of course. We can take a turn about the gardens.”

“Anne, no! Think about your reputation…”

Frederick may have struggled not to react to Lady Russell’s words but he was unable to hide both his delight and surprise at Anne’s response.

“Lady Russell, may I remind you that, whilst you may disapprove, Captain Wentworth is still my fiancé and we are doing nothing inappropriate. We shall stay in full view of the house at all times, you may be assured of that.”

Feeling inordinately proud of Anne, and his heart sinking even more at what he must tell her, Frederick offered his arm and escorted Anne outside. Despite her bold words to Lady Russell, Frederick was still unprepared for Anne to pull him behind a convenient hedge and throw her arms around him.

“Anne!” Despite the shock in his voice, Frederick still allowed his arms to close around Anne and clasp her close, not knowing if this would be the last opportunity that he had.

“Oh, I’m so sorry Frederick but I’ve been so worried about you. My letters were returned unopened and the Naval lists announced a James Benwick as the new Captain of the Laconia but there was no mention of you. I was so afraid that you were dead!”

_The Naval lists!_ Frederick couldn’t believe that he had clean forgotten about them. Of course they would communicate that Frederick was no longer the captain of the Laconia. However, what they hadn’t made clear was the fact that Frederick was alive, that he was now a member of the Aerial Corps as opposed to the Royal Navy.

“No, not dead, as you can see.” Very aware of the fact that Lady Russell was undoubtedly watching them – watching him – with eagle eyes for any hint of impropriety, Frederick drew them out from behind the hedge and towards a little stone bench that sat in full view of the house. Entreating Anne to sit, Frederick paced up and down in front of her as he searched in vain for the words that he needed before returning to her side and taking her hand in his.

“Anne, my dear Anne, I apologise for what I must tell you but there is no avoiding it. It must be said and no amount of pretty words will make it easier to hear. The reason that Benwick was detailed in the Naval lists as being Captain of the Laconia is because I am no longer in the employ of His Majesty’s Royal Navy.”

“What? But …. Frederick, how? I don’t understand.”

“As you know, we were on patrol in the channel and beyond following the Battle of Shoeburyness. We were far down, closer to Spain than France when we came across a French frigate. I won’t give you all of the needless details but, suffice to say, that we met in battle and the Laconia was the victor. Upon further examination of the ship, we discovered that it was carrying a dragon’s egg and one that was close to hatching.”

Acknowledging Anne’s gasp of horror with a squeeze of her hand, Frederick continued with his tale. “I will not burden you with the details but, despite favourable conditions, the egg hatched before we reached Funchal and the dragonet rejected the midshipman who had been selected by lot to harness her. Instead, she chose me.” Frederick paused for breath, shooting a glance at Anne that revealed her to be a trifle paler than usual but still listening intently. “She utterly rejected any other officer as her handler and, with no other choice open to me, I was forced to relinquish command of the Laconia into Benwick’s hands. My brother-in-law, Admiral Croft, has been most helpful and has eased the passage into the Aerial Corps somewhat. His influence has seen me installed into a formation based out of the covert at Dover. I am ashamed to say that I have been there these past two months but I have not been able to find the words to put pen to paper, something for which I am most heartily sorry.” Sending a glance at the French windows that led to the parlour, Frederick decided to take a chance and moved a little closer to Anne, gathering up both her hands in his and pressing a kiss to them.

“Anne, this can hardly be news that you want to hear; I hardly want to give it. We have hardly been engaged these last three months and already I am gone from being a Captain in the Navy with a promising career ahead of me and a good deal of prize money in the Funds to being a Captain in the Aerial Corps. Oh, I still have the prize money but, even so, it is hardly the life that I wanted for you. Indeed, I would not blame you were you to break the engagement here and now.”

“Frederick! How can you say such a thing?”

“How can I not? Anne, the life of an aerial captain’s wife is so very different to that of a naval captain’s. In fact, for the most part, aerial captain’s wives do not exist! There are few women willing to share their husband with a dragon, for that is what must happen.”

“If you’re asking whether I would be willing to share you with your dragon Frederick then the answer is unequivocally yes. I would rather have part of you than none at all. Unless, unless you do not think that your dragon would be willing to share your attentions?”

“You are too good, too excellent a creature, my Anne. Is there another woman as understanding as you? Yes, Demeter would be willing to share you. She knows how much I love you and, indeed, I have told her all about you; she is most eager to meet you and it was all I could do to persuade her to remain behind today.”

“Will … will you tell me about her, Frederick? About D-Demeter?”

A slow smile spread across Frederick’s face at her tentative question. “If you wish it, then nothing would please me more.”

Rising from the bench, Frederick offered his arm to Anne and, as they proceeded to stroll around the gardens, detailed all that he had discovered about Demeter since she had hatched. Anne didn’t take a passive role in the conversation and the questions that she asked, both about the dragons and the Aerial Corps, gave Frederick a small speck of hope that their relationship wasn’t going to be over before it had begun. He was just describing Iskierka, with her general distaste for Demeter and her obvious jealousy of the friendship between Temeraire and Demeter, when he became aware that they were no longer alone. Turning, he saw Lady Russell with a distinctly displeased look on her face.

“I think that it is high time for you to leave, don’t you Captain Wentworth? Or do you still hold a title now that you work with beasts?”

“I am still a Captain, Lady Russell, just with the Aerial Corps rather than the Royal Navy. I should be going though. With the situation as it is, I’ll be needed back at the covert as soon as possible.”

“By all means, don’t let us stop you.”

Frederick had to practically bite his lip to stop himself from responding to the arch comment but was amazed by the look of censure that Anne shot her godmother. “I’ll walk you out Frederick. If you’ll excuse us, Lady Russell.”

To the surprise of neither of them, Frederick’s horse was waiting for them at the front entrance, a boy holding the reins although he left eagerly upon their arrival. Not caring that Lady Russell was undoubtedly watching from one of the windows, Frederick leant in and stole a kiss, brushing his thumb across Anne’s lip and over her cheekbone.

“Remember, the decision about our engagement is yours; you decide if you can bear to be married to a Captain of the Aerial Corps. I will love you always, regardless of your choice.”


	6. Epilogue

“Frederick! Wake up!”

“What? John? Has something happened?” Frederick sat up, still bleary-eyed and half-asleep but already fumbling for his coat. Surely something catastrophic had happened if Granby was waking him up in the middle of the night? They were all on high alert but none of them had expected to be leaving England any time soon. And Boney had to be crazy to attempt another invasion on England so quickly.

“I’ll say. Your Anne’s here.”

The words had Frederick coming to a complete standstill. Surely he had misheard? Anne couldn’t be here at the Dover covert; she was back home at Kellynch Hall, safe. “Anne? My Anne? Here?”

“Yes. Your Anne. Here. Come on, get a move on man. I left Laurence to take care of her; I think he was taking her to Admiral Roland’s quarters.”

Frederick was practically half-way out the door by the time that Granby had finished speaking, not caring about his current state of dishabille. If Anne was here, then something had to have happened. There was no other explanation for her being at the doors of the covert in the middle of the night; her family would never allow it and Anne herself had always been so proper. Fear coursing through his veins he sped up, racing towards the Admiral’s rooms.

Once he was there though, actually standing in front of the door knowing that the only thing that stood in between himself and Anne was a piece of wood, Frederick couldn’t bring himself to enter. He couldn’t lie, he was more than a little worried as to the reason for Anne’s presence. Had she, having had time to think, made the decision that she could no longer marry Frederick? Had her family got to her? He was so afraid of what might may behind the door that he was still stood there dithering when Granby finally caught up with him.

“Frederick? Why are you still stood out here? Why are you not in there embarrassing Will with your display of affection towards Miss Anne?”

Frederick turned to his friend, feeling certain that his despair was written all over his face. “Why is she here, John? What has made her travel all this way to arrive in the middle of the night? This behaviour is most unlike Anne. What if she is here to tell me that she can’t, that she won’t marry me after all?”

Frederick felt Granby’s hands grasp his arms and shake him slightly before starting to speak low and urgently.

“Stop being so ridiculous man. You’ve said it yourself, it’s most unlike her and I have no doubt that there is another reason for her being here. However, you’re not going to know the reason for her visit if you’re standing out here torturing yourself so…”

While he had been talking, Granby had laid a hand on the door handle and now pushed it open, shoving Frederick into the room. Frederick barely had any chance to register who else was in the room before his eyes alighted on Anne and she was rushing into his arms with a slight sob.

“Frederick!”

(~*~)

Frederick didn’t know how long he stood there, eyes closed with his arms wrapped tightly around Anne’s slight frame and nose buried in her hair. He didn’t care that they had an audience, he just wanted to savour the feeling of having Anne in his arms for as long as he could. He only pulled back when he heard the sound of a throat being cleared awkwardly, looking towards the other occupants of the room.

“Ah, my apologies. Gentlemen, this is my…” Frederick paused. Was Anne still his fiancée? He didn’t know why she was here as yet. Hoping that he had covered up his slight hesitation, he carried on with his introduction, “this is Miss Anne Elliot.”

Granby was shooting Frederick confused looks that, thankfully, Anne couldn’t see but Laurence ignored Frederick’s hesitation and Granby’s facial contortions and stepped forward, hand outstretched.

“Miss Elliot, it’s an honour to finally meet you; we’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Captain William Laurence, formerly of HMS Reliant and now Captain to Temeraire and this is John Granby, Captain to Iskierka.”

Granby had gathered his wits enough to plaster a charming smile on his face as he stepped forward. “Will put it far more elegantly than I could but the pleasure is all ours. I hope everything is well, given the time of your arrival?”

“Granby!”

“John!” Frederick cursed his friend mentally, torn between gratefulness to Granby for broaching the subject and frustration as he felt Anne tense in his arms.

“I do apologise for Granby, Miss Elliot. We shall leave the two of you to discuss things in private. Admiral Roland is away for the evening but I’m sure that she would not mind Miss Elliot utilising her room for the evening. We can make further arrangements if necessary.”

The two captains both bowed, Granby’s decidedly more sketchy than Laurence’s, before leaving Frederick and Anne alone. Steeling himself, Frederick stepped away from Anne.

“Not that it isn’t delightful to see you Anne but Granby had a point; what are you doing here in Dover? And in the middle of the night as well! Did you travel by yourself?”

Frederick broke off his questioning as he saw Anne sway alarmingly and hastened to see her into a seat. “Forgive me Anne, I’m so sorry.” Looking around, he caught sight of a bottle of brandy and poured a small fortifying glass, “here, drink this.”

Frederick waited, almost impatiently, as Anne drank the liquor and regained her composure somewhat before he spoke again. “Anne, darling Anne, I don’t mean to press you but you have me scared half to death. Please, talk to me. What has happened?”

“My- my father has retracted his permission for us to wed.”

Frederick’s heart sank. This was precisely what he had been afraid of when he had ventured into Somerset to break the news to Anne of his transfer into the Corps.

“He said that he had agreed reluctantly while you were a Naval Captain because you had done well for yourself and there an opportunity for promotion and more prize money. However, now that you’ve transferred to the Corps you’re apparently no longer a suitable match for an Elliot and Lady Russell agrees with him.”

“Anne…”

“Lady Russell may think you’re unsuitable but all my father wants is my money and he hopes that by refusing his permission, he will be able to keep me at home long enough to see some of it.”

“Dearest Anne, you’ve lost me. What money? What are you talking about”?

“My mama left some money for my sisters and I that we would each receive as soon as we reached our twenty-first birthday. Elizabeth received hers and spent it on dresses and fripperies while Mary won’t receive hers for a few years yet. I think my father was hoping that I could be persuaded into giving over some of my money once I come of age and he was none too happy by my announcement that that would not be happening.”

“Anne, what are you saying?” Frederick couldn’t believe what he was hearing. What he hoped he was hearing.

“My father may have withdrawn his approval for our engagement but I refuse to accept that. I won’t give up on my dreams because my father and my godmother disapprove. I’ve done that once before and it made me miserable. I refuse to do it again.”

“ _Anne._ ” Frederick barely breathed the words out as he crushed Anne against him, pressing a heartfelt kiss to her temple.

“I told you when I accepted your proposal, nothing and no-one was going to stop me from marrying you Frederick Wentworth and that hasn’t changed.”

“And I love you for it. We shall find some way to rectify all of this. For now, try and get some sleep. Admiral Roland will not object to you using her rooms for the night and we can look on this with fresh eyes in the morning.”

Placing a kiss on Anne’s forehead, Frederick left the room. Seeing no sign of Granby or Laurence outside, he headed straight for his chambers and the little desk that he kept there. He had letters to write.

(~*~)

The following morning found Frederick sat pressed up against Demeter’s bulk reading aloud to her. Demeter had been quite fascinated by the fact that Laurence regularly read aloud to Temeraire and had pressed Frederick into taking up the same practice. Frederick had no objections to it and had actually started to become rather fond of the time that the two of them spent together. This morning, it was much needed time where he didn’t have to think.

He had spent several hours after he had left Anne writing letters to both his brother-in-law as well as several other contacts that Frederick thought could be useful. The only problem was that, by the time he was finished, even though he was exhausted and wrung out he had been unable to sleep. Not even coming down to where the dragons slept and pressing up against Demeter’s warmth had been able to help him find rest although he had been able to calm his mind by methodically reading out the familiar text.

Frederick’s reading came to a halt when Demeter who, up until that point, had looked almost as though she were asleep suddenly raised her head and spoke.

“Hello. Who are you?”

Raising his head from his book, Frederick looked up to see a still rather pale Anne stood several feet away from them, her hands fisted tightly in her dress.

“Anne.”

“Oh!” Demeter’s voice took on a more delighted tone. “Anne? The Anne? Is this your fiancée Frederick?”

“It is.” Frederick set aside the book and walked towards Anne very carefully, almost as though he were approaching a startled animal. “Anne, I wasn’t expecting you to be up for several hours yet. Did you manage to get some sleep?”

Anne managed to smile somewhat wanly, “a little but not much.”

Frederick could tell that Anne’s attention wasn’t really on him but on the eighteen ton dragon behind him. Reaching out a hand to Anne, he couldn’t help but feel hopeful when she came to him willingly albeit a little nervously.

“Anne, I’d like to introduce you to Demeter. Demeter, this is my fiancée Miss Anne Elliot.”

Demeter turned her head to stare at Anne with those curious moon-white coloured eyes. “Hello. I’m very pleased to meet you. Are you really going to marry Frederick?”

Anne’s swallow was audible but she still answered. “I am, yes.”

“How interesting. Do you like to read Anne? Can I call you Anne? I very much like to be read to but Frederick doesn’t have very many books and I am getting a little tired of mathematics and navigation.”

Anne looked somewhat bewildered and Frederick could hardly blame her. Still, she answered Demeter with barely any hesitation. “You may call me Anne and yes, I do like to read. I tend to prefer novels and poetry though.”

“Oh, that does sound interesting. I’ve heard Laurence read Temeraire some poetry and it sounded quite pretty. I don’t think I’ve heard any novels though. Would you read me one? Please?”

The last word was tagged on as an afterthought but still, Frederick couldn’t help but feel a little proud. “We shall see, Demeter. Anne and I have a few things that we need to sort out but we will come back later. Is that okay?”

“I suppose so.” Despite the reluctance of her words, Demeter still craned her neck and bumped Frederick’s shoulder gently so he knew that she wasn’t too disappointed. He couldn’t help but hold his breath as Demeter turned her attention back to Anne, stretching her head forward and nudging Anne’s hand almost tentatively.

“Will you come back later, Anne?”

“Yes, of course I will.” As she spoke, Anne reached out and stroked a small hand over Demeter’s head, a small sound escaping her at the pleased rumble the sound elicited from the dragon.

Frederick didn’t care if he walked Anne back to the main buildings puffed up like a peacock, he couldn’t have been more proud of his fiancée and the way that she had dealt with his dragon. Perhaps this could all work after all.

 ~*~

To Frederick’s relief, two mornings after Anne’s arrival brought more guests to the doors of the Dover covert, this time in the form of his sister and brother-in-law. Frederick had never been so grateful that the Admiralty’s meddling meant that Richard was temporarily in London, Sophy alongside him, while a subordinate took charge of the Commendable. Frederick had been spending time with Anne and Demeter when one of the boys had arrived at a run to tell them that guests had arrived and were awaiting them in Admiral Roland’s chambers. Frederick noticed that Anne had gone quite still, as though she were petrified and tugged her closer to try and reassure her.

“It’s only my sister and her husband, Anne. You have nothing to fear; I am absolutely positive that they will adore you as much as I do. Come, let me introduce you.”

“Will you introduce me? They sound interesting,” Demeter butted into the conversation. “Is your brother-in-law not a sailor as well?”

“He’s an admiral, Demeter, so yes. And I will introduce you, only not just now. I’d like them to meet Anne first. Is that okay?”

“Well, I suppose so. Would Matthews help me clean my scales in that case?”

“I’m sure he would; I shall send him along directly. Come along, Anne.”

Having delivered the message to Matthews, Frederick led them in the direction of the main building of the covert. The closer they drew to Admiral Roland’s chambers, the more that Frederick could feel Anne was pulling back, slowing her speed enough that he was almost pulling her along. When he turned to look at her, he could see that Anne had paled once more and that she was biting at her bottom lip nervously. Glancing around quickly as he set his hand on the door handle, he leant in and kissed her quickly having ascertained that there was no-one around to see them.

“I promise. Nothing to fear.”

With those words, he swung the door open and was almost immediately wrapped up in his sister’s embrace. Dropping Anne’s hand, he wrapped his arms around Sophy, beyond relieved to see her again. They had gone for far longer periods of time without seeing each other but still, given his current situation, Frederick had never been happier to see his older sister and her husband. Finally releasing Sophy, he shook hands with Richard before pulling Anne from where she was doing her very best to shrink back into the woodwork.

“Sophy, Richard, I’d like to finally introduce you to my fiancée Miss Anne Elliot. Anne, this is my sister Sophy and her husband, Admiral Richard Croft, currently commanding the Mediterranean squadron.”

“Pleasure to meet you, my dear.” The Admiral gave Anne a short bow accompanied by a kiss to the hand, Anne responding with a small curtsey.

Sophy wasn’t quite so restrained in her greeting and instead kissed Anne enthusiastically on both cheeks before enfolding her in a hug, exclaiming how delighted she was to finally meet Anne. For her part, Anne looked more than a little bewildered but responded that she was as equally pleased to meet Sophy. With the greetings out of the way, the couples took what seats there were available with the Crofts rearranging things to sit facing Anne and Frederick.

“Now, tell us, why did you summon us here so quickly and why is Anne here at the covert instead of with her family.”

Glancing at Anne and knowing instantaneously that it was going to be up to him to explain things, Frederick took a deep breath. “Well, our engagement seems to have run into a minor hold-up. Anne’s father has withdrawn his permission for us to marry.”

“What?! Why?” As expected, both Sophy and the Admiral were horrified by the news.

Anne smiled tremulously before she spoke. “He feels that, as a captain in the Aviation Corps, Frederick is unsuitable to be the future husband of an Elliot.”

“What utter tosh! Is that the only reason or is there more? Tell us everything my dear …”

(~*~)

Having spilled the whole sorry tale to his sister and brother-in-law, keeping a close grasp on Anne’s hand as he did so, Frederick caught sight of a familiar look on his brother-in-law’s face even as his sister chuntered away about the despicable behaviour of Anne’s family.

“You have that look on your face that says you’re up to something Richard. Have you got a plan? Please tell me you have a plan.”

“I have a few thoughts. You just leave everything to me Frederick, just leave everything to me.”

Frederick spared a quick glance to where Anne and Sophy now sat, having moved away from the men, Anne slowly growing in confidence and responding more easily to Sophy’s easy conversation. He hadn’t really doubted that his sister would love Anne but seeing it was a relief nonetheless. He knew that, if the rumours were true and that Napoleon was planning on marching east, he would be relying upon Sophy to take Anne under her wing – and potentially into her home. Anne was hardly going to be welcomed back at Kellynch having married Frederick against her families’ wishes.

“Very well. I leave things in your capable hands, Richard.”

~*~

Less than a week after the arrival of the Crofts, they announced that it was necessary for everyone to decamp to Spithead. Admiral Roland had clearly been taken into their confidence as she didn’t raise a single peep of protest at the prospect of the entire formation leaving the covert, taking with them every member of their ground crews. Laurence had raised the possibility of leaving the ground crews behind only to be informed by the men themselves that that wasn’t going to happen; they were coming to Spithead with their dragons.

The journey to Spithead, short as it was, was one of the best experiences that Frederick had had since taking to the skies with Demeter for the first time. Flying was still a relatively new enough experience that he never failed to get a thrill from it but flying with Anne behind him? Frederick had the feeling that he would never get sick of that, no matter how many times it happened. Sophy and the Admiral had left for Portsmouth the previous day, having decided to travel by carriage rather than dragon, and offered to take Anne with them but she had refused politely, not wanting to be separated from Frederick, if only for one night.

To everyone’s surprise, and Frederick’s utter delight, Anne had actually taken to Demeter with alacrity and had actually spent rather a lot of time with the dragon. Even so, the flight to Spithead was the first time that she had been on the back of a dragon. She might have clung tightly to Frederick as Demeter had leapt away from the ground but her grip had loosened somewhat as they evened out and Frederick had heard one or two gasps of delight as they had swooped and soared through the air.

As they flew in over the harbour, Frederick spied a familiar sight and couldn’t help but chuckle, his brother-in-law’s plans making sense all of a sudden.

“Richard Croft, you wonderful, crafty man.”

The second that they both had their feet on the ground, Anne turned to Frederick, curiosity clearly written across her face. “Frederick? What you said as we flew in; do you know what the Admiral has planned?”

“I think I do. Do you see the ship out in the centre of Spithead? That one there; that’s the Laconia. She was mine before Demeter chose me and is now captained by a good friend of mine, James Benwick. Now, every ship over a certain size has a chaplain on board who is licensed to perform marriages. I have a feeling that that is the Admiral’s plan; for the Laconia’s chaplain to marry us on board ship.”

“Frederick, this was a wonderful idea but how will it work? I’m still not yet twenty-one; we either need to wait for the banns to be read or we need my father’s permission to get a license. We don’t have time for the first and the second will never happen now.”

The express that Anne had received from Jane Smith saying that Lady Russell had visited and knew that Anne was not in Bath had panicked Anne. It would have panicked Frederick but for the fact that Lady Russell didn’t know where to look for them. Even if she did, he could hardly believe that she would step foot in either the Dover covert or Spithead. Just as Frederick opened his mouth to try and placate Anne, he heard the sound of a throat clearing and turned to see a very welcome and familiar grinning figure in pristine regimentals.

“And that, I believe is where I come in. You must be the Miss Anne Elliot that I have heard so much about. Allow me to introduce myself; Major-General Arthur Wellesley. I once had the pleasure of your fiancé’s company on the voyage home from India. I have a feeling that this piece of paper will solve all of your problems. One marriage license with the approval of one Sir Walter Elliot.”

Frederick couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief as Wellesley produced the vital piece of paper. A sideways glance towards his brother-in-law showed a rather smug smile on his face and Frederick knew that this was what Richard had planned for all along.

“As it turns out, Baronets can’t say no to a peer of the realm, even if they are one of those ‘soldiering types’. So, shall we get you married?”

Anne’s shock was palpable. “Married? Now?”

Shooting a glance at Wellesley, who interpreted it correctly and stepped away, giving them a bit of privacy, Frederick spoke. “Anne, we don’t have to get married right now. We can wait if you want; the decision is entirely up to you. This would solve a lot of problems but I am aware that it’s hardly what you have to have imagined for your wedding.”

“No, it isn’t what I imagined but that hardly matters if I get to marry you, it’s just…”

“Just what?”

“Who will marry us? What about rings? And, well, what will I wear?”

“And that is where I come in.” Sophy had sidled closer without either of them noticing and now she smiled reassuringly at Anne. “Everything is in hand, including your dress. If you come with me, we’ll get you ready.”

Frederick looked at Anne, prepared to go with her decision whatever it may be but every part of him hoping that she would say yes. “Anne?”

Relief washed over him as a smile spread across Anne’s lips and she nodded with a slight giggle. “Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes!”

Frederick gave a whoop of delight and gave in to his impulses, picking Anne up off her feet and swinging her around in a circle, revelling in her happy giggles and ignoring Sophy’s admonishments.

“Frederick Wentworth, put Anne down at once! Now, Captains Laurence and Granby have your uniform and their instructions. Anne and I will return in two hours for the ceremony.”

(~*~)

Frederick couldn’t help but feel nervous as he hovered on the deck of the Laconia. Sophy’s two-hour mark had now been and gone and not even the surprise presence of Harville alongside Benwick to stand for him was reassuring. Would Anne make an appearance for their wedding ceremony? He did not doubt the sincerity of her words or the depths of her feelings but this whole thing was so far from traditional that it was untrue. He knew that every little girl dreamed about their wedding day and he was pretty certain that those dreams tended to include a church and a white dress. They certainly didn’t involve running away from your family and getting married on a ship in the middle of Spithead.

Truthfully, Frederick was utterly amazed by the number of miracles that Sophy and her husband had managed to pull off although it now appeared that they had enlisted a peer of the realm as a co-conspirator. Wellesley was the Duke of Wellington for pities sake; surely he had more important things to do – like defence of the realm – as opposed to attending Frederick’s wedding? Still, given the rest of their wedding guests, the fact that the Duke of Wellington was in attendance seemed almost normal.

The Laconia had been anchored in a position that ensured that several ships with dragon decks were close enough to allow the formation to be present. As Frederick’s (and now Anne’s, at Demeter’s insistence) dragon, Demeter had insisted upon the best viewpoint on the nearest dragon deck, one that she now shared with Temeraire and, reluctantly, Iskierka. The rest of the formation were piled on top of each other on the other two decks. The main deck of the Laconia was crowded with a mixture of sailors that had sailed under Frederick when he had captained the ship as well as the ground crews of the formation, all of whom had insisted upon attending the wedding having grown fond of Frederick and also knowing how rare a wedding was in the corps. Arrayed on the poop deck with Frederick were the captains of the formation, Harville, Benwick and Jane Roland, who had arrived on Excidium that morning. Frederick spared a grin for Richard as his brother-in-law appeared, Wellesley at his side, both men dressed in all the pomp of their ceremonial uniforms.

“Do I even want to know how it is that you are carrying out the ceremony? This is going to be legal isn’t it?”

“Don’t worry Frederick. All legal and above board. Sophy would kill me if it wasn’t. See, here is the man who’s going to marry you.”

Frederick turned and let out a cry of wordless delight and amazement as he saw who was actually going to perform the ceremony, flinging his arms around his oldest sibling in a tight bear hug.

“Edward!”

“I’ve been waiting to marry you and Anne for a long time, little brother. Sophy sent me an express last week asking me to come and perform the ceremony. Lucky for you, I wasn’t going to miss this for the world. Otherwise you might have had to deal with having this one marry you.”

“Excuse me! I’m sure we could have worked something out to make it all legal and proper. Wellesley has the ear of the King if needs be. Now, as touching as this reunion is and unless I’m very much mistaken, I believe that your bride is on her way.”

Frederick turned as a hush fell over the gathered sailors and aviators to see Anne picking her way through the crowd, Sophy following close behind. His sister, wonder that she was, had managed to get Anne a white dress that fit her tiny frame perfectly and, as she made her way to his side, Frederick found his breath catching in his throat. The dress was simple but elegant, perfectly suiting Anne’s style, but Frederick was too busy feasting greedily on Anne’s face to pay it too much attention. Beneath the lace veil, Anne’s eyes were shining brightly and there was a delicate flush to her cheeks. Not taking his eyes off her face, Frederick raised her hand to his lips, watching as the flush deepened ever so slightly before Edward cleared his throat and the spell was broken.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today…”

Frederick felt as though he were in a daze for the majority of the ceremony, saying what he was supposed to but not being completely aware of it until finally, finally he heard the words that it seemed he had waited a lifetime to hear.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife. Captain, you may kiss your bride.”

Frederick grinned inwardly as cheers rang out amongst the assembled men when he took Anne into his arms and kissed her on and on. It may not have been what either of them had imagined when they had thought of their wedding day but, in the end, it had been perfect. He still didn’t know what the future would bring – that was unfortunately all down to a certain Frenchman – but Anne was his wife now, that was the most important thing.

Reluctantly pulling away, if only to catch his breath, he felt the broad grin take over his face as he took in Anne’s flushed cheeks and the happy sparkle in her eyes. Tugging her even closer, he dropped one more kiss to her lips, unable to resist.

“I love you Anne Wentworth. Thank you for agreeing to be my wife.”

“I’ve wanted to marry you for two years Frederick Wentworth. If Lady Russell couldn’t stop me then a dragon certainly wasn’t going to.”

The frankness of Anne’s tone combined with the glint of amusement in her eye startled a belly laugh out of Frederick that was all but drowned by the cheers that ran out at Benwick’s extortion.

“Three cheers for Captain and Mrs Wentworth!”

**Author's Note:**

> If you would prefer to comment on LJ, you can do so [here](http://vix-spes.livejournal.com/239053.html)


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